Unrequited
by blue wigged thespian
Summary: If someone told me that I was in love with one Carly Shay, I would've beat them hardcore. Now I think I'm falling for her, and I don't know what to do but to embrace it, and accept that she'll never like me back. Eventual Cam, with Seddie friendship.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo.**_

* * *

It's a rainy day in the city of Seattle, Washington. A crestfallen Samantha Puckett makes her way home after a day of disappointment and heartbreak. She never thought she would be rejected by the one she truly loved, since the last time she loved someone, she had a memorable relationship. Everyone pretty much expected the two to enable a courtship, but they weren't expecting them to break up so soon. They thought the couple was destiny, and a mere example of what true love is all about. Those idiots were wrong.

Sam had it coming. She didn't expect a complete sexual turnaround; just two months ago she was just in a relationship with one Freddie Benson. How could she fall for a girl that fast?

She isn't gay. She doesn't like girls, she never liked girls. But how could she explain the almost nightly nocturnal emissions; or the heart-fluttering feeling she gets when she shows up, or the swoon she tries to hide when she touches or hugs the blond aggressive girl? Is it hormones? Is it destiny?

Does she need help?

All she knew was she made a complete ass of herself today. If Sam had to pick what feeling she didn't ever want to feel, it would be embarrassment, humiliation, feeling like a complete donkey. She went out with her... she felt confident that now would be the time to ask her out, especially after the scene she experienced. But she was definitely not ready for the rejection delivered by her.

She immediately felt her heart break in that moment, but she holds back the tears like a pro. She hides her true feelings again, and she does it well. It may be seen through with both Benson and Carly, but to everyone else, she's completely calm and serene, and quiet.

To make matters worse, she walks in a destroyed house. Just last month, Sam had cleaned the house because the furniture looked old and dusty, vermin were crawling and rotten food lay around the house. Now, glass shards replace the bugs and blood replace the rotten food. If someone was dead, the house would look like a crime scene. Fight after fight, beating after beating, and Sam has only taken 5% of it. She stays mostly outside when the beatings are taken place, but at night, everything's oddly quiet and serene, except for Friday night. She's tired of it. It's been a month since this house has last been cleaned, and Sam knew she would have to do it, if not her mom or her boyfriend. Her mom changes boyfriends like Sam changes underwear; too many fucking times to be normal. This time, she can't escape this one. She hasn't escaped the relationship ever since the week before she and Freddie called it quits. He's abusive and a heavy drinker, not to mention a cold blooded individual. He's been in jail more times than Sam would have count, starting at Sam's exact age. It's almost crazy, how her mom could date an abusive sociopath, while her daughter's doubting her heterosexuality. Not to mention her other daughter Melanie, who's overseas in a boarding school but is just as quick witted, authority-hating, and tough as Sam, despite the girly facade she puts on.

She sighs and solemnly walks to her room, which manages to be the cleanest room in the house.

"This sucks," she mutters quickly; the rain patters on her window like hailstones and the tree knocks against the glass. It's almost like a hurricane, Or a very severe storm.

She starts on her homework, but gives up after her failure to understand the concept of earth science. "At least they're not teaching creationism," she says to herself.

She couldn't do it. It's too hard to be as equal as her. Sam couldn't be that smart for her. She likes the smart types, but maybe that was for boys. The straight crush Sam has on her is making her into something she's not.

Why did she have to like her? She thought she was completely straight, and that her future was to marry the man of her dreams and have multiple kids. But she can't even have that, because she doesn't like any other guy. She could embrace the fact that she loves her, but why couldn't she like her the same way Sam loves her? It's a painful unrequited love; more painful than how Freddie felt every time he tries to ask Carly out. He's grown out that stage, but Sam can detect how much it hurt to get over that. He is her ex-boyfriend, and one of her closest friends, how can she not see it? She'd never admit that, though.

"Why can't I just forget about you?" Sam whispers loudly.

She even remembers the words that break her heart into pieces; the words she would never forget.

"That's impossible! You're my best friend."

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**EDIT 11/11/12: this story is undergoing some work, so if you don't hear from me during this week, then that's it. I will post chapter 4, but I'm editing some future chapters so the storyline works. Only chapters 1 and 2 will change, but minimal.**

**Thanks, and have a great week (:**


	2. Rehearse

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo.**_

* * *

_Three weeks earlier_

It's been a month since Freddie and me called it quits on our relationship. Everyone expected me to stay with Freddie until death do us part, but that's not going to happen. We're too different of a people. We've agreed to do it after watching Carly reprimand her brother and his relationship with some chick. Basically, we were trying to make our relationship into something that was out of control and we couldn't get along due to the animosity before the relationship. We used her for conflict resolution, when we should've talked to each other for a compromise. But, Mama don't do compromises; if he doesn't agree with me, then he would have to deal with my wrath.

I'm an angry person, an aggressive person. I wouldn't be surprised if I started beating on my boyfriend.

However, Freddie's a masochist, so he doesn't care if I beat on him or not. I wouldn't do that because despite our old habits, I still love him as a person and I respect him enough to playfully attack him.

I sit calmly by myself at the Groovy Smoothie, and watch as T-Bo attempts to sell things on a stick. Item of the day is tape, which is weird. It's usually food.

"Wanna buy some tape? $2.50," he says to a lesbian couple in the corner. The girls look at him oddly. I don't blame them, tape on a stick, in a smoothie store?

"Buy the whole stick, $5.50," he boasts.

One of the girls shakes her head no, but T-Bo is a persistent guy. "Come on, my old roommate gave me a year's supply of tape and I don't know what to do with 'em!" He complains.

The other girl says no, and he casts his head down, sulking away from the couple. I grimace, and silently take a sip of the concoction that T-Bo gave me, free of charge. It's a new smoothie, with new ingredients inside of it. It's actually pretty bad. I don't know what he added in it, but it's not edible, or drinkable.

"So how's the smoothie?" The black man asks, grinning at me.

"Needs more... good taste," I answer truthfully, handing him the cup of smoothie back to him.

He nods understandingly. "I dont know... I'm just trying to add something new into the menu. My boss says that vegetables are a good start."

"Well maybe you can add fruits to blend it up so there's no bad taste?" I suggest.

"Great!" He beams.

"Alright," I smirk, "Where's my contribution?"

He groans and digs in his pocket, pulling out five $20 bills. "Happy?"

"Yes," I answer rhetorically.

He grumbles and walks back into the kitchen, while I dig in my pockets for my phone. Today's a very sunny day, and I have rehearsal in about thirty minutes. However, I'm not ready to leave yet. I'm simply stuck in this chair. It feels like sleep paralysis, but I'm not sleeping.

The door chimes, signaling that another customer has walked in. I didn't look at the door, simply because it was none of my business who walked in or not. It could be a stranger and I just looked at the door for nothing. I'm not expecting anyone to meet me here...

The aforementioned person walks over to the counter, and orders two smoothies with the flavours I recognize. I look at the back of the person's head, since he's turned around for me not to see the face, but I can vaguely make assumption that the person is Freddie.  
He finally turns around, and then glances over at me. He gives me an awkward smile, and I smile back. His order is ready, and he picks it up.

"Hi," he says to me.

I nod in reply. "I was just going to Carly's for rehearsal. Well, since we're here, wanna walk together? I'll wait for you."

He shifts his eyes elsewhere, trying not to look at me. It's not like I asked him out, again. I just thought that we would go to the apartment together since we're going to the same place.

"We're going to the same place, Fredward," I grunt. "We might as well walk over there together. That's what I meant."

"I know," he says. "It's just that..."

"What?" I question. He takes a deep breath, and takes a sip of the smoothie he ordered a few minutes ago. I can tell he's trying to say something that he doesn't want to say, but he has to, because he can't lead me on like that. No one leads Mama on, and leaves her in the dark! "Come on, Fredamame. I don't have all day."

"I interpreted it in the wrong way, is all," he gives me a fake grin, a sign that he was lying.

I decide to ignore it, because if I query on this any longer, it will go on all day and we will never go to Carly's for rehearsal. "Whatever, let's go."

-x-

I enter the apartment building, Bushwell Plaza. It's cleaner than the last time I was here, and the last time I was here, I had to deal with a mutual breakup. The doorman looks at us questioningly. He's a new doorman, since Lewbert's on vacation. He looks like the aforementioned doorman, but with a lack of a face wart, lighter hair, and younger features.

He shrugs, and keeps reading the magazine in front of him. Well, at least he's not as grumpy as the wart-sporting imbecile.

"Lewbert's son," Freddie whispers in my ear.

He has a son? Who in their right mind- no, Sam, it's best not to say anything. Nothing could ever explain the time when I found out he actually had a relationship with a woman, who turned out to be abusive and a jealous freak, and the reason why he has the wart on his face. I hit her on the head with a pineapple that day.

"Well, at least he doesn't have a wart," I whisper back, and we walk over to the stairs. We climbed up each stair, one by one, since the elevators were slow. It doesn't tire us out, at least not anymore. it used to, but we were both fit individuals so walking up the stairs were not even a challenge.

We made it to the eighth floor, and find the Shay apartment two doors from the staircase. I didn't bother to knock as I waltz in and find Carly watching television.

"Hey cupcake," I greet, reverting back to old ways when I used to call her that.

"Hey guys," she grins, and takes the unattended smoothie from Freddie. Her smile is so pretty; it's like watching a toothpaste commercial and the people with award-winning smiles gleam their pearly whites at the camera. It radiates the while room, and I'm pretty sure she knows it herself. But that's not the only thing that's good about her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, mainly everything. Wait a minute- why am I talking about my best friend like that? It's normal for girls to notice guys in that way, not girls to notice girls that way! Then again, I just saw a lesbian couple and I didn't grimace, or even care.

"Sam?" She asks, pulling me away from my reverie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I lie, my internal battle feeling unresolved. "We should do rehearsal, right?"

"I guess," she says skeptically, raising an eyebrow at me. "Let's go."

-x-

After the rehearsal, we were beat and ready to go to sleep. However, I had to go home and get ready for school the next day.

"I should be going, you guys," I announce.

Carly groans. "I wish you can stay the night."

"Nah," I wave off. "My mother's wondering where I'm at right now. I should go."

"By the way," she stops me, "How is she?"

"She's okay," I lie. I couldn't tell her that she's in an abusive relationship, and that the house is dirty because no one wants to clean up. I should clean up the house or something... Maybe I'll do it when I get home.

"Okay, then," she smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you cupcake," I grin back, glare playfully at Freddie, and rush out the apartment.  
What's happening to me? I never felt so conflicted ever in my life.

The whole rehearsal, I had to keep myself restraint because we did the Idiot Farm Girl skit, and she was wearing a short skirt that showed too much for the child's eye to see. Of course, that part was hidden under the table, and then she brushed her arm on mine, which caused me to freeze up. Of course it was rehearsal, so it didn't matter if I messed up. I just hope that I don't do that when we're on the air. Might I also add, she was also standing next to me closely, and I had to sidestep so many times away from her. She looked so disappointed throughout the rehearsal.

I know she was more disappointed when I decided to leave.

As I make my way to the stairs, I hear a loud crash. Then I hear some screaming that's so similar to Lewbert's scream. I just remembered, his son is staying here, and it's probably him. Oh god, he inherited that from Lewbert? I run down the stairs like a mad woman, pausing to see that a familiar SUV backed up in the front of the building. Carly and Freddie show up after a few seconds behind me.

"What the hell?" I ask. I hear the door open and close, and my mother glares at me. She's angry, and drunk, and her clothes are ripped and dirty. She sports a bruise on her cheek, her hair is unkempt, and blood stains are on her collar. I don't query on her choice of clothes, rather her drunkenness. The bruise looks new as well.

"Sam," she whispers.

"I'll drive home, mom," I say, pulling her to the backseat. She throws herself inside and immediately falls asleep. I push her legs inside the car, ignoring the whispers of the guests, and the glares of my best friends as I enter the driver's seat. I have my license, but it doesn't matter right now as I pull away from the building and get the car back to the road. Being sixteen has its perks, I can drive without restrictions and enjoy the wind in my hair whenever I drive away from wherever I am. However, it's an unseasonably cold day, so I turn on the heater. I sigh as I hear my mom groan and move within the car. I should drive slowly, she could vomit in any minute, but I really want to get home as quickly as I can. I saw the almost run-down house and park in the driveway. It used to be a nice looking house, until she dumped that gardener boy, so of course now it looks like shit. Not to mention the vermin and rotten food laying everywhere... it makes my skin crawl.

I carry my mother out of the car and help her walk to the front door. She never makes it. She kneels over the grass, and vomits all over the unkempt lawn. I groan, but I thanked her inwardly, knowing that I won't have to clean up puke at all. I open the front door, and she stumbles in, applying herself on the dusty couch. It's so dusty, as she sits on it, dust particles fly around in a frenzy.

I grab two masks from the end table drawer next to the door and cover my face, as well as my mom's face. I go into the kitchen and grab the cleaning materials needed to clean the house completely.

It's time to make this house look like a house.

* * *

**AN: Updates are once a week, whether Thursday, Friday or Saturday. Never in the middle of the week unless otherwise specified. Also, by after this chapter, there will be mature content that some people aren't comfortable reading. Unless you're not comfortable with non canon pairings.**

**feedback is always appreciated, so review. They're like breast milk to a baby.**


	3. Agony

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo**_.

* * *

Two hours later, the house starts to look like a real house. I moved my mother an hour ago, to clean the living room. She's drunkenly napping on her bed, which I manage to clean before I put her there. I also clean the kitchen, the other rooms, the dining room, the living room, and chase the vermin out of the house.

I enter my room quickly, sealing the holes under my door with a dirty towel. The house is currently being fumigated, and hopefully the house would be rid of the vermin crawling freely around the house. I take a towel and enter my bathroom.

I turn on the water, balancing both the cold and the hot together. The hot overpowers the cold, but it's not too hot for my skin to blister under the shower head. I peel off my clothes and enter the shower cubicle.

I start with my hair, washing the blond locks with my passion fruit shampoo and conditioner. I received this gift from Freddie for our 3-week anniversary, and I've been using it ever since. It makes me feel like I'm in the tropics, and the smell is intoxicating. I sigh in contentment, rinsing the stuff from my hair. I grab the body soap and start to wash my skin, hard enough to tear and tamper the skin. I groan when I feel my nails graze my outer thigh harshly. The new, fresh cut starts to bleed, but the blood washes away before I react. I turn off the water and dry myself quickly before grabbing a bandage from the medicine cabinet and sealing my wound. The bandage sticks immediately, despite my damp skin. I had to be _cursed_ with sensitive skin.

I look outside the window and realize that it's now sundown. Where did the time go, I thought as I leave the bathroom and get dressed for bed.

I retrieve my phone from my jean pocket and look at the time: 8:30 PM. It's too early to go to bed, but too late to sneak out the house. Then I check my phone again.

7 missed calls and 3 texts.

All from the same people.

I open my messages module, looking at each message.

_"Sam! Pick up your phone!" _- from Carly

_"Come on Sam. You never ignore my calls unless you're sleeping. And I know you're not sleeping. Please call me back when you receive this message."_ - from Carly

_"Hey, are you okay?" _- from Freddie

I sigh, going into my contacts and pressing the green button after I find the contact I needed. The dial tone doesn't sound, rather a call tune of the song 'Call Me Maybe' by Carly Rae Jepsen.

I should've known. She would, of course, change the call tune I set up for her with some bubblegum pop song by a girl with the same name as her.

It's also ironic too. I laugh inwardly at the lyrics, since I'm calling her and the lyrics mention 'so call me maybe'. I don't know; I think it's funny.

"Sam!" She yells from the intercom. "Where've you been?"

"I've been busy," I say. Well, it is the truth! "What's up?"

"Why'd you lie to me?" She asks.

How does she catch on that fast? "What d'you mean, cupcake?"

"Don't 'cupcake' me!" She exclaims. "Your mother just tunneled through the building like a madwoman, sporting a bruise and battered clothes-"

"She got in a bar fight," I lie again.

"Don't lie to me," she growls. "Look, I'm asking you these questions because I thought she was trying to be a good mom to you, since she failed before with you and-"

"I'm fine," I say. "She's sleeping soundly in her room, and she's fine. She's just a little shaken from the bar fight, is all." I hate lying to Carly, but if she hears that my mom isn't fine, then it's over for me. I love my mother too much to watch her be taken away from the police, again. They will say she's too unfit to be a mom despite her being beaten by her boyfriend, and I'll have to force to move with relatives. All of my relatives have somewhat of a criminal record. Even Melanie has a criminal record. Plus they don't live in Seattle. I have to stay here, especially when I'm doing great here.

"Okay," she says skeptically, not believing my lie at all. It's not the last of her queries, I know it. she pauses on the intercom. "I love you, Sam."

"Love you too cupcake," I smile sadly, and hang up on her.

Those three words have never hit me so hard as much as they do now, I thought as I crawl onto my bed.

I barely receive any sleep that night.

-x-

"Hey," I hear Freddie say from behind me.

I turn around and grimace. "Hey Benson."

"Reverting back to old habits?" He smirks and blushes ubiquitously.

"Yeah yeah," I groan tiredly. "Leave me alone, mama's boy. You're giving me a headache."

He scowls halfheartedly. "Fine." He shrugs and goes to his locker, ignoring me and his locker neighbors as they greet him in a nasal geeky voice.

I smirk amusedly as I put in my combination for my locker and I open it. I take and apply some of my notebooks and textbooks inside the cubicle. I feel so tired, that I don't notice that Carly says hi to me.

I ignore her some more until she taps me on the shoulder.

"Oh, hey, sorry Carls," I croak.

She gives me a confused look. "Are you okay Sam?"

"Yeah, I just didn't sleep well last night." I slam my locker and lean against the cold lockers. I ignore the coldness, but then I shiver.

"Go home Sam," she reprimands. "It's better than you sleeping in class and getting detention when it's not even your fault."

"I can't," I whisper. "I wanted to go to school today."

"Sam," she whines. "What's with you? You're not being yourself lately."

"What d'you mean?" I ask lazily. "I just insulted Freddie a few minutes ago."

"That's not what I meant!" She half-yells in distress. "Go home, and sleep."

I sigh defeatingly, waving at her and leaving the building in a hurry before anyone comes and picks me up.

-x-

I wake up, and immediately feel better than this morning. It's 2:25 pm, and my school day is almost over. It makes no sense for me to go back to school.

I turn on the television, and find this program named Queries for Couples, hosted by this blond kid with glasses and a 70's suit, and his assistant is a narcissistic older girl. There's three couples sitting in heart shaped chairs, almost all of them look annoyed and bored. One couple, has a black guy with dreadlocks, and a girl with red velvet colored hair, and a smile that rivals Carly's. The couple in the middle, has a girl that could be confused with Shelby Marx, but the girl has lighter hair, and a nerdy looking guy with a Jewish Afro. The couple in their left, is an actual couple. I can tell, because they have matching necklaces. The guy, insanely hot, looks like he has a Twilight-themed mystery within him, and the girl has the blackest hair possible, with a greenish blue streak, as well as a pale complexion that makes her look like a China doll.

The couples are insanely funny, each of them answering ridiculous questions, and the answers have to match. The last couple had a real fight on set, with the guy, apparently named Beck, told his girlfriend of three years, her name Jade, that he's unhappy of their relationship. This fight reminds me like the fights Freddie and I used to share. It doesn't affect me, since I'm a viewer, but it affects Jade, since she's livid. And apparently everyone else.

Well, shit.

Maybe it was a great idea that Freddie and I broke up.

I switch the channel to something else, getting tired of the show already. I stop at a marathon of Girly Cow. Now this is a show worth watching. Although the game show was interesting. Interesting enough to hold an on-screen breakup before my very own eyes.

After an hour, I hear a door slam, and some unintelligible yelling.

I open the door to the hallway, ignoring the smell of the fumes from the fumigator, and check what's going on.

"It's about time someone clean this mess up!" He yells. "Pam? Where the fuck are you? And where's my sandwich?"

My mother opens the door, her hands grabbing her hair furiously. "Why are you screaming?"

"Where's my sandwich?" He repeats.

"Up your ass," she mutters before she stumbles down the stairs. I watch as her boyfriend roughly drag her into the kitchen and demand her to make him lunch.

I snarl, furious that my mother would let this man push her around like that. She was never like this, not at all. She always fought her battles, no matter how big.

"Here you go," she fake smiles, handing him a good looking ham sandwich.

"Did I ask for ham?" He growls.

"Th-that's the only meat we have," she stammers.

He picks up the sandwich, and throws it at her face. He also smashes the plate against the wall. He stands up, and grabs my mother by the collar. "Did I say I wanted ham?"

She shakes her head no in a frantic state.

"Good," he smirks, pushing her roughly and making her stumble on her two feet. She lands ass first to the clean floor. "Now make me a sandwich, and I don't want ham!"

She nods, and makes a new one. The man looks up at me and smirks evilly. I growl inwardly, hoping that someday my mother would kill this man, or something. Just so he can get away. If she won't do it, I will.

I know I will.

He deserves it.

I walk inside my room, getting tired at the futile scene from under me and pick up my phone.

I receive some texts from Carly, asking me if I'm okay, I text her back, saying that I'm fine, when I'm really not. I'm angry. I can't believe my mother lets that man assault her like that. But I'm not telling her that, especially in a text. I leave my room, and I watch as he pulls her outside the house in the rain, while he's sitting in the clean house, boasting in the warmth while my mother freezes.

I walk downstairs, and open the front door. I let her in, but that man stops me by pushing me outside the house. I snarl, but remember that I have a spare under the plant next to the door, I lift up the plant and retrieve the key.

"Whenever he locks you out, the key is under the plant," I tell her, opening the door successfully. He stands there in front of me with a sick and twisted scowl on his face.

"I thought I wanted you two outside," he whispers dangerously.

I roll my eyes in annoyance, and try to make my way to the stairs, but he blocks my way and pushes me to the floor. "You need to listen more to your elders," he yells, and kicks me on my side. It's the first time he has ever held a finger on me, and it's a searing pain on the left side of my body. I yelp in agony, and my mother tries to console me by kneeling over and frantically pulling me into her chest.

The man drags her away from me, and takes her upstairs. I don't stay long enough to know what he's going to do as I evacuate the house. All I know, as I'm barely walking over to the apartment, is that I hear my mother's agonizing screams from afar.

* * *

**AN: Mostly a filler, and since I didn't have school for two weeks (thanks to hurricane Sandy) I had all the time in the world to edit and write. I should've studied, but I hate that, so yeah... Lol. And thanks for reading! Reading is appreciated, as well as reviews. But I won't go there. :)**


	4. Notice Me

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo._**

* * *

I stand in front of the apartment building, the whole front of it demolished into almost nothing. There's a passageway in which people can enter to and from. I go inside, while the construction workers try to fix the front of the building. It's a large job, but they can do it.

I ignore them and run up the stairs, two at a time, to the eighth floor where the Shay apartment is at. I don't knock, rather barge inside the apartment, where I find Carly and this other guy together. They're kissing, but they stop when they hear me walk in.

The guy glares at me, while Carly tries to find the words to say. I don't know what to say either, I'm just shocked, and almost heartbroken that she would be with another guy. But why? I don't like her like that, I shouldn't give a fuck whether she dates another guy or not. She's free to date anyone, guy or girl. However, why do I feel the need to pull this guy off of her, and attack the living daylights out of him? Why do I feel like making this guy bleed to his dying breath?

"...Sorry for interrupting," I say, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Carly looks at me apologetically. "Um..."

"I should be going now," I announce, biting my lip to hide the sadness within me; she stops me with a touch of her hand onto mine and tells me to stay. "I shouldn't impose on you two-"

"Sam," she pouts. "We weren't doing much. Just talking."

_Yeah, right_, I think.

"I have ham," she smirks, knowing damn well that ham is my weakness.

I turn around and smile at her, as well as the guy behind us, watching us curiously. I barely limp up to him, praying that no one notices, and immediately recognize him.

"Shane?" I ask, incredulous.

"Hey Sam," he says shyly.

What? She's been making out with the same guy who we fought over a year ago? The same guy we caused a life-threatening injury to? What a small world...

"How... How's everything?" I stammer.

He nods in reply, telling me that he's okay. He looks okay. His injuries have healed up. He looks like he was never in one, actually. His hair is longer, he has facial hair, all the necessities a growing boy has at the age of seventeen. He's good looking, but I don't care. All I care about is getting some ham action in the kitchen.

I grimace, and make my way to the refrigerator, where the ham is. I retrieve it from the refrigerator, and start eating it. Carly looks at me with a smile, while Shane watches me devour the food in front of me. Carly knows how fast I can eat this ham, and so does Freddie, and most of the students of Ridgeway, but Shane looks like he has never seen me eat it.

"Pretend I'm not even here," I say to them, hopefully to stop them from staring at me. Especially Shane's glare of disgust.

But truth is, I don't want her to pretend that I wasn't here. I want her to kick Shane out and talk to me, notice me- what? Where is this coming from? I don't like her like that! Why am I thinking of her noticing me more than she does on a regular basis? Why am I having weird thoughts about my best friend?

_Because you love her_.

What, I don't love her, I think. Okay I do, but like a friend. A best friend... Like sisters even...

I stop eating the meat, watching the couple flirt with each other and watch Girly Cow. Disgust and annoyance grows within me, just by watching them. I don't want some man looking at her like that; she isn't a piece of meat. Great, I say this as I eat some right now; I roll my eyes at the thought. Shane touches her hair and her shoulder, and then he does that horribly clichè yawn trick. I snarl, looking at the ham. I take another bite of the food while he places a hand on her knee, which goes up into her skirt-

I pretend to fall off the stool, faking an injury. However, I fall on my left side, and the pain from earlier grows back, causing me to hiss in pain.

_Damn it_, so much for being subtle.

"Sam?" Carly calls, worried.

"I'm fine," I try to say, but it comes out as a strangled cry as I grab my side like I'm holding someone in a deathly situation. I hear Carly get up from the couch and go to my side.

She sighs and sees that I'm still grabbing my side. She moves my hand away and pulls my shirt up. She hisses, her eyes widening at the sight.

"What?" I ask.

"Where'd you get that?" She yells.

I look at my side, where I see a large bruise covering the side of my waist. It's almost black and blue, a mixture of purple in the mix. There's red on the outside of the bruise, and also green and almost yellow. I widen my eyes. I don't know how much damage that man could do with only one kick to the side. It hurts; I couldn't bear the pain any longer while Carly gets an ice pack from her freezer and applying the frozen substance to my side. I also hope she doesn't ask me where I got the bruise again and that it was just an impulse question, not for important purposes.

"Is that better?" She asks in a small voice.

I nod. She touches the bruise with a finger, and just like that, I feel electricity and fireworks surge through my nerves. I moan quietly at the small touch, not in pain however. She doesn't budge, meaning that she didn't hear it.

"I'm fine, cupcake, don't worry about me," I tell her.

"Okay but at least get up from the floor," she says, while removing the ice pack from the floor. I pull down my shirt and try to get up with her helping me. She sets me down on the couch, where Shane already has got up from. He looks like he wants to leave, and I don't blame him. I'm totally cockblocking their date and on purpose. But I don't want to watch him touching her like that.

Carly walks over with the same ice pack, and applies pressure to my left side again. She lets go of the ice pack, signaling me to hold it. I hold it while she gets a cloth and wraps the cloth around my waist, to keep the ice pack in place. It's a messy attempt, but she gets it.

"Thanks," I whisper, feeling guilty that Carly has to nurse me while hanging out with Shane.

"You're welcome," she smiles. She looks at Shane, and he nods, understanding that it Is his cue to leave. He goes through the back door, and it's only me with Carly, with no interruptions. I immediately smirk to myself.

"I'm really sorry for ruining your moment," I say, not really meaning it.

"It's fine," she waves me off. "It's not like we're not going to hang out another day. Right now, friends come before dates."

I nod. "Do you have any painkillers?"

She nods with a restraint look on her face, and starts to saunter over to the bathroom. I watch closely at the way she walks, the way her legs give a little bounce in her walk, despite being angry or sad. She disappears, and I mentally kick myself everywhere. What the hell am I thinking? I know I'm not having thoughts about my best friend like that. Looking at the way she walks makes me feel perverse and dirty, not to mention hot, bothered, and confused. I shouldn't be thinking this way; I know very well I don't like girls.

She comes back and gives me the pills, as well as a bottle of water.

"Thanks," I say.

"You're welcome," she says, and something tells me she's restraining herself for bringing up the topic in the kitchen. I can't tell her, because she would ask who the person was. I could say its a hobo, but she sees right through me. I can't lie to her, but I've been lying to her about my mother for a while. I know I have to tell her, just not now.

-x-

After spending all day with Carly, I walk home in the dark, the familiar route not much of a battle even in the dark. The dark brings a few stars in the sky, and a lot of nightly noises- dogs howling, cars driving, and the occasional teenager yelling unintelligible words.

I see the house a few blocks away, and as I get closer, I notice that the lights are on. I walk faster to the house, getting my keys from my pocket. My mother is sitting on the stoop of the house, her head down.

"Mom?" I ask.

She raises her head up, and even though it's dark, I see the horrible damage done to her. Her clothes are torn, her hair is cut shorter than it was before, and she has several bruises in her face and forearm. She also sports an Indian wrist burn- when someone grabs your wrist and twists it roughly until you can see the white of your skin- but it's so bad that there's drying blood on it. There's handprints and asphyxiation marks in her neck.

I didn't realize that I start to cry until I wrap my arms around my battered mother in a hug, while she hugs me back tightly.

I had to do something about this, but I can't. I had to keep my mouth shut. My pride will never make me tell, but I know that this will be a life or death situation, if not now then later.

-x-

The next day, I go to school, despite my internal voice telling me not to from the lack of sleep again the following night. If I get detention, then fuck it. I can always skip detention anytime I want to.

Carly glares at me in class, noticing my tired presence. I nod off to sleep almost every minute, especially for English, when pointy boobed Briggs drawls all period of how much English is essential. I know how much English is essential; I speak it every day, don't I?

"Sam!" Ms. Briggs yells at me.

"What?" I groan.

"What did I just say?" She asks, with a smirk on her face.

I don't know what she said, but all I know is that it has to deal with what's learning today. I look towards the board, and I don't understand anything. And when I say anything, I mean it. Well, I can always say something smart-assed. "I don't care."

Everyone starts to snicker. "Of course you wouldn't. But I'll make you understand it, in detention."

"Not gonna happen." She glares at me, like I say something wrong. Of course I did, I'm not going to detention. Why should I waste my time in detention when I have better things to do? Anything is better than staying after school.

She snarls, "You're going, or you will get suspended from school."

"I'm pretty sure I can't get suspension just by skipping detention." I make a face at her direction, awaiting a reply or for her to kick me out of class. Either way, I don't really care. This teacher is a nuisance, and the whole school knows it.

"Principal's office, now," Ms. Briggs points at the door, walking towards it and opening the door for me to leave. I shrug and pack my things inside my bag. I leave the classroom, but I'm pretty sure I have a few minutes until my next class, so I skip the principal's office.

I manage to also get detention in Mr. Howard's class, but I know I'm not going to attend because tonight I have a new iCarly and I know I can't miss it. Maybe that's the reason why she was glaring at me all day. Well I don't blame her- if I owned a popular web show, then I would want my costars to show up at all times.

I skip my stupid detentions to go to Bushwell Plaza, meeting Carly and Fredlumps over at her locker. She looks at me with a confused look, while Freddie smirks knowingly.

"I'm not going to ask why you're not at detention," she rolls her eyes and shuts her locker, and we leave the building.

We have plenty of time before the show starts, so we decide to make a pit stop at the Groovy Smoothie. There are only a few people at the popular hangout for us, and we couldn't like it any more than that. Freddie goes to get some food and smoothies, so that left me with Carly. She looks angry, and I don't know what I should do. I know she's my best friend, but I feel like she should be more than that. I can't think that way around her, because that's not only creepy, but it would ruin our friendship forever.

It looks like she wanted to say something as well, but she closes her mouth, deciding not to. When has our friendship become so awkward? I thought she has a lot to say in the matter, but after what she seen yesterday, and the restraint she showed in her facial expressions to not ask me where I received the large bruise, I'm not surprised.

"You know, you never really answered my question yesterday," she ponders.

There it was. She knew I was vulnerable, but I thought she would bring it up possibly after the show, or tomorrow, or never. "I got it from hitting myself, when I fell on the floor."

She quirks an eyebrow, and I know she sees right through me with that horrible lie. "You're lying. Bruises don't develop that fast."

"What makes you think I am?" I ask defensively.

"I just said bruises don't develop that fast, and-"

"Here comes Fredloser with our smoothies!" I exclaim, changing the subject. It wasn't a lie, he was making his way to the table. But Carly didnt want this conversation to end.

"You're avoiding the subject!" She yells frustratingly.

"And _you're_ getting in the way of letting me eat," I joke while I devour the food and drinks placed in front of me.

She rubs the bridge of her nose, but completely drops the subject. She gives me a look that says, 'This isn't over'. Like I don't know that, I knew this was far from over.

* * *

**AN EDIT 11/16: Look for me on FictionPress guys. my pen name is the same so don't worry about the link. And thanks for the reviews (even though they're one liners.) I'm very appreciative.**


	5. No More Lies

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo._**

* * *

Tonight's show is a disaster.

Throughout the whole show, I have to move away from Carly, because when she did it at the beginning of the show, I freeze, and turn pale from forgetting what I had to say. I'm also sleep deprived, so I forget some of my lines for the Idiot Farm Girl skit. I make some things up, and even though they are witty, it doesn't get through to both Carly and Freddie.

After that, we do a Random Debate about school and pizza, and we have to discuss why one is more important than the other while tap dancing, or pretending to tap dance in Carly's case. I have to argue school, but due to my distaste for school and my growing fatigue, I barely make any points that are discussed before the show.

I also notice that my costar keeps glaring at me when the camera isn't showing her. Especially for a skit I have to do with Gibby and she just keeps that glare for a well two minutes.

"Well that's the end of our show!" Carly exclaims.

"And always remember, school is more important than pizza!" I say, smiling falsely to the camera.

"Wrong, pizza is better!" She argues. "But we'll make the fans decide."

"As always," I say. "But for now, hasta luego!"

"Bye!" She smiles and waves to the camera.

"And we're clear!" Freddie shuts off the camera, and puts it back on the stand. "Good show, guys."

I sigh, knowing that he's lying. The show is so bad, and I make so much mistakes. I feel so bad, and I blame myself if the viewers say that we weren't as good as last week, or the week before. I don't blame them.

-x-

"Are we going to talk about this?" Carly asks me, after she hears the door close after Freddie's departure.

"I told you what happened," I tell her, frustration dripping in my tone. "What do I have to tell you to believe me?"

"The truth!" She exclaims. "You've never lied to me like this. Why do you now decide to lie to me, in more ways than once, in a week?"

"I'm not lying!" I say. There's a lot she doesn't know about me, but that's for later.

"I see it in your eyes, Sam," she cries. "You're hiding something. Something's wrong with your mother, and I want to know what it is. I thought we couldn't keep any more secrets!"

_Oh, trust me, you don't want to hear the secret I have embedded inside me about you,_ I thought_. _"I'm not hiding anything."

She purses her lips angrily. "If you're not going to tell me, then I will find what's wrong by myself!"

"There's no need to, because everything's fine!" I assure her, but she sees right through me again. Why should I keep lying to her? She deserves to know, but it will take me a lot to say anything.

She shakes her head. "I will not tolerate a friend that lies to me and keeps things from me!"

"For the last time-"

"If you keep telling me that you're not lying, then please leave," she orders, with a bit of regret in her eyes. She looks like she wants to cry, and I know I caused this, by lying to her. I couldn't keep lying to her, but she doesn't need to know, not right now. Not until I feel she's ready. Right now, she's not ready for the reality that I have to face, which is watching my mom's confidence shatter, and the glint in her eyes disappear with each punch, hit, blow, bruise, cut, handprint, and watch glasses and plates shatter before me.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I... um- I can't say anything. I don't think you're ready to hear what I have to say."

She scowls at me angrily. "What the _fuck_ do you mean by that?"

I ignore the surprise inside me. When Carly cusses, it's a serious matter. I stay silent, because I may potentially set something off, and I don't want to risk that.

"What's so bad that you can't tell me?" She interrogates.

I shake my head, hoping she won't press the matter even more. I hope she would forget this and just move on, because it's tearing us apart. I can't tell her anything anymore because she doesn't believe my lies, and the truth hurts. Especially the reality that I may have strong feelings for her. But that's besides the point. "Forget I said anything."

"Fine," she growls. "I hope you know that lying to me and keeping things from me is worth losing your best friend."

The world shatters around me as she says those words. I've messed up, and I can't fix it. My pride does all the moves for me, and I leave the apartment in haste. I keep running from my problems, my issues, my conflicts, and my friendships. I'm losing everyone that I love, starting with my mother, then my ex, and now my best friend. I should run back and tell her everything, and hug her close, demanding forgiveness, and let her tell me that things are going to be okay, but I can't, all because of my inability to face my fears.

I don't know how long I'm running, but all I know is that I'm two homes down from my house. I stop and catch my breath shakily, and I feel the lump rise in my throat. I ignore it and keep walking to my house. I walk up the stairs, open the door, and walk inside. The house is deathly quiet, and I know he isn't home to torment my mom. I sigh in contentment when I walk up the stairs and go to my room. I drop my bag aside, and almost drop myself to my bed. What I don't expect, is that I fall asleep immediately on the comfortable bed.

-x-

I wake up to an obnoxious sound, realizing that the noise is my alarm clock on my phone. I dig in my jeans pocket to silence the alarm, and grab a towel to get ready for school. It's Friday, and I'm ready for the weekend. I didn't want to be bothered all weekend, especially since I know damn well that Carly is mad at me for fleeing yesterday. I relax my muscles under the hot water, releasing most of the tension within myself that a shower could do. It's a calming shower, but I'm still distressed about yesterday. I need something to make me forget. Something, anything. Maybe I can go to the house today, possibly.

I step it if the steamed shower cubicle, and wrap my body with a towel. I walk over to my room, and I look at my side, where I see a bruise taking the whole side of my torso.

"So much for open cut shirts," I mutter as I rummage my closet for some clothes. I hastily dress in some warm clothes, underwear included, and put my shoes on as I hear my phone go off. It's a message, from an unknown number, telling me they have the stuff.

I mentally cheer at myself; I really need a release. No, it's not sex, it something else, and it makes me forget about the bad things in my life, even the aftershocks aren't so bad.

I grab my bag and my phone, and leave my house, walking the whole way to school.

I step inside the school. Despite feeling relieved about the text, what brings me more stress is, I walk over to my locker and I see Carly loading books inside her locker.

Fuck. Yesterday's events start rushing in my head again, and I couldn't remove my head from them..

I open my locker with ease and start unloading my backpack into the cubicle. I really need to clean out my locker. It's full of junk and may attract some unwanted guests if I don't do it soon.

"Hey Sam," I hear someone say.

"Yo," I grunt without turning around. I know who it is. Somewhat deep voice, smells like fear, sounds giddy when talking. Yup, it's Gibby.

"I see you and Carly aren't talking-"

"That's none of your business," I growl angrily. I really don't want to talk about it, especially with someone who isn't really my friend.

He looks taken aback. "Well fine. I just wanted to see if you're okay, because she isn't."  
"I'm fine!" I yell, causing everyone to glance at me.

He blinks, shrugs, and walks away. I angrily slam my locker and go to class. I really don't want to, but I have no choice since I'm here. I really hate everything right now. My best friend is mad at me, and I just want to stop thinking about her in a way that best friends aren't supposed to think about each other. I know I'm not falling for my own best friend. I know this is all a misunderstanding, and I'll be back to my terrorizing, truth-telling, awesome comdienne in no time, and no one would suspect a thing.

I know so.

I really hope so.

Because if I don't, then I don't think I can live with this thought plaguing my mind.

* * *

**AN: Happy Thanksgiving y'all. I've had trouble with this chapter. It was supposed to have an explicit scene, but I changed it so it can be less explicit than I mapped the story to be. And sorry for the shortness... again, I had trouble with this chapter. And iGoodbye is tomorrow... Hope it isn't as disappointing as the whole season. I doubt it though, I finally get to see the unseen character of Col. Shay. _Finally!_**

**Thanks a ton for the reviews, and even for the views. They're appreciated. It tells me that you're reading this. Mama barely has confidence here! Haha, jk. Anyway, don't eat too much, you might need the energy for Black Friday!**


	6. Veritas

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo._**

**This chapter has some topics that you may not agree with and if you don't want to read that, you can simply skip over it.**

* * *

The day went by like every other day: I cuss out my teachers, I get detention, I give somebody (primarily Gibby) a wedgie, and I still get detention.

Oh, and I skip it every time.

But today, I couldn't bear to ignore the glare from Carly. She kept glaring at me all day, and I know it's the reason that I lied to her yesterday. But it's not like the first time I lied to her. I've told little fibs before, and even though she catches me all the time, I know she doesn't get mad. But this time, she's mad, and the only way I can get her to stop being mad at me is if I tell the truth.

I should be able to visit her tomorrow.

-x-

I almost run home to avoid detention, and the door is open. I cock an eyebrow in suspicion, and swing the door. The place is more messy than I remember, and I cleaned it two days ago. I know it doesn't take two days to get a house to get so dirty, but living with a battered mother and an uncaring boyfriend could create this result.

I roll my eyes in annoyance and went to my room before someone came out and told me to clean up the mess. I don't even try to do my homework, because that would be a failed attempt to do. Instead, I drop my bag in a corner, and climb out the window. I take my time to get down the tree and after landing safely to the grassy ground, I run towards the empty warehouse. The warehouse is a place that no one knows besides a few people from school and my twin sister, mainly because she showed it to me two years ago before going back to school. It's a place where I can clear my head, or read, or enjoy a whole bag of weed.

It's a pretty popular hangout for misfits, including myself.

I open the door, and find my old buddy Wendy with her head on a table. She raises her head, and sees me.

"Yo, Sam," she sniffles, and I notice the white line of residue on the table.

"Still doing that stuff?" I ask, voice dripping with disgust.

She shrugs. "Eh, it's either this or detention."

"Well if you can't do the time..." I query, picking up a small bag of green leaves. "Got some rolling paper?"

She nods, handing me some paper. I crush the buds into small bits before dumping it on the paper, and rolling it up. I make sure the end is closed tight so I can put my mouth on it, and the other side a little open. I dig inside my jeans pocket and pull out my lighter. I put the expertly rolled joint in my mouth and light the other end, inhaling the strong stuff before exhaling it through my mouth. I take another slow drag and hold it in for a little longer and slowly exhaling it, a chain of smooth smoke eliciting in the air. Wendy takes the blunt from me and starts to smoke it.

"Where's the rest of our big-headed losers?" I ask.

"Well one of them went back to boarding school," she drawls, referring to my twin sister. "They're all at detention, or getting more drugs. I don't know, I don't fucking care."

"Yeah you do," I smirk. "Without those losers, you wouldn't have all the stuff you needed."

"You make me sound like an addict," she snarls.

"That's because you are." I joke.

"And without them, I wouldn't be supplying your bi-weekly stuff," she retorts.

I shrug. She has a point. The difference is, I can live more than two weeks from it. The people here do it everyday.

"Whatever," I snort, already feeling the highly effects of the drug.

She laughs too, while the drugs in her system are co-mingling with her body.

"Yo, what's up with you and Carly?" She asks. "She's been staring at you up and down all day today."

"She's mad at me," I sigh. Besides myself, Wendy is one of the few people who knows that my mother has a problem, but she doesn't know about my feelings about Carly. Although I think she has an idea of it. The reason why she knows of my mother is because her mother was the same way. Her mother succumbed to the injuries, and she had to live with some relatives in Seattle in order to continue school around here.

"Why?" She asks.

I sigh exasperatingly, also relieving a chain of smoke into the air. "She wants to know about my mother."

"What's wrong with that?" Wendy interrogates. "Tell her, she's your best friend."

"You don't understand," I groan. "She wants everything to be alright and peachy for the world. Life doesn't work that way."

"Your mother is getting attacked," she says. "The way you're keeping this from her, it's like you don't trust her."

"You're right," I say. "I should tell her, but I feel like she's still mad at me."

"I don't blame her for being mad," she admits. "If my best friend for nine years started to lie to me, I'd be pretty pissed off myself."

"I've been lying to her for years," I admit. "She doesn't have an idea of the real me, Wendy. Nothing, not at all. And I fear that if she does, she will run away. I mean, I could totally understand, why should she stay friends with a person like me?"

"Because she loves you?" She says matter of factly.

If only she knew how much that word love meant to me right now. "She's the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

"Sounds like you're in love with her," she laughs, but I don't budge. With the sudden feelings I've been having towards her these days, I probably do love her more than I should.

I don't know I stayed silent until Wendy continues, "You are in love with her!"

"No," I lie. "I just care about her a lot. She's my best friend."

"Right," she laughs. "I always suspected it. I just thought it would take longer for you to realize it."

"I'm straight," I growl. "I like guys. I dated that kid in the fifth grade, Jonah, Pete, even Freddie."

_In which none of those guys made you happy like she does._

_Freddie made me happy... _I thought. _For a while..._

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" She interrogates.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not convincing anyone. I'm telling you the truth."

"Right," she laughs again. "Whatever you say. Anyway, you're killing my buzz. I'm gonna go get my stash." She leaves for a second, and I hear some rumbling of bags before she comes back. She has plenty bags and boxes of food, as well as some drinks, and she drops them on the floor in front of us.

I grab the bag of Munchies, and attack the sodium-rich snack.

"You need to get your own snacks," she growls, taking a bite out of the Twinkie.

I smile apologetically at her, but continue to eat.

"And anyway, none of your relationships you were truly happy in," she states.

"Wrong," I deny. "Freddie was the only guy who made me happy, no matter how masochistic and condescending he could be."

"Whatever," she shrugs, popping the last bite of the Twinkie. "I'm just saying, you should embrace it, and tell her soon. She might love you back. Actually no, I know she loves you back."

"Whatever, know it all," I mumble. "And eat wisely, they took those out of the market."

"In which I keep a stash of Twinkies in my room for a lifetime," Wendy snorts. "what do you take me for, Puckett?"

I shake my head at her ridiculousness. She always brings a smile to my face, high or not, but if she stopped self medicating, she would be happier than she pegs herself to be.

-x-

I climb up the obnoxiously large tree up to my room. It's been a couple hours since I've left the house, and now it's complete sundown. I knew I should stay there until midnight because the losers start to rush in by the time my high started to dissipate. Especially when I knew that Friday nights are the loudest times of the week.

After crawling inside my room, I hear a glass breaking on the floor and screaming. I also hear a fist slamming against flesh, and a hand slapping against the same flesh. I hear the occasional fabric rip, and I know I shouldn't stay here. I sigh, taking some underwear and extra clothes and slipping out if the house again. I need a place to stay for tonight, and Carly's mad at me. Well, she won't be for long, especially when I tell her everything. Well, not everything, but you know what I mean.

I knock on the apartment door, and a tall, goofy male sidesteps to invite me in.

"Thanks Spencer," I say.

Spencer is also the other person who knows, ever since I ran to him for comfort. It was actually, surprisingly a Friday when I told him. He tries to call the house to check on my mom, but bad move there, because my mom picks up, and demands help before being pulled away from the phone. He physically hears my mom being attacked before he clicks the end button. I told him not to get involved, that I would handle it, but as you can see, I haven't yet. I'm just scared, that if he breaks out from jail, then he would literally kill the people I love.

"Friday again?" He asks.

I nod. "I should crash on the couch."

"Wherever is fine," he smiles, and walks back to his room. I sit down on the couch, but I don't feel like sleeping.

Just as I was about to go into the bathroom, I hear Carly's footsteps getting closer down the stairs. She freezes the minute she sees me. It may be dark, but it's not hard to view me.

"What're you doing here?" She whispers.

"Spencer let me in," I answer. "Mom's having a bit of a disagreement with her boyfriend."  
Well, it wasn't much of a lie.

She nods, and gives me a 'come upstairs' gesture. I follow her to her room, and it still looks the same from when I fixed it, along with Spencer, Freddie, and a couple of carpenters. She sits on her bed, while I sit on the beanbag.

"Sit with me," I command.

She gets up and sits on the beanbag across from me.

"I'm really sorry for lying to you," I start. "But, I had to. I couldn't tell you because it's not as happy and wonderful as you think."

"I think I get the gist of that," she scowls.

"Please let me finish," I say, ignoring the anger radiating off her. "When I told you my mom was getting better, I was telling you the truth, for a while. She got into a new relationship with a guy, and this guy's abusive," I stop, taking a deep breath and holding in the tears from remembering each attack my mother had on her. "The first time she was attacked, I ran to the apartment and cried to Spencer about it. He tried to call the house, after I told him it wasn't a good idea, he had to hear my mother screaming on the intercom, screaming for help. It's been going on for weeks." I took another deep breath, still holding back tears. "I... I have to watch her get attacked by a man who doesn't love her. I have to clean up their mess, especially when things get bloody. I-"

Carly wraps her arms around me in a hug, and I lose control. I can't stop the tears, and I can't stop the sobs from bubbling out of me. I sob on her shoulder, getting her shirt wet, but she doesn't care. She just rubs her hands up and down my back, whispering sweet, intelligible reassurings and telling me it's going to be alright. I believe her; I know things are going to get better, once I get rid of him. She always has that optimism around her, and she always has that attitude to help others.

She has a heart of gold.

"I understand why you didn't want to tell me sooner, and I'm sorry for getting mad at you." She whispers.

I shake my head, untangling myself from her hug. "It's not your fault. You didn't know anything."

"It doesn't matter," she exclaims. "I just thought it was one of those lies that you almost always tell, and I catch you in them."

"I'm really sorry for lying," I frown.

"It's fine," she smiles sadly and gets up from the beanbag. She takes my hand and helps me get up. She doesn't retrieve her hand, and my stomach flutters in delight. I take in another deep breath, ignoring Wendy's words about me being in love with my best friend. She pulls me towards her bed, and hugs me again. I hug her back, biting back more sobs. I don't want to cry anymore.

"I love you Sam," she whispers.

"Love you too," I say back.

She lets go of me and climbs on to the bed. I follow suit, despite the fact that I'm still wearing my street clothes. She holds on to me and it's like she doesn't want me to leave, ever. I bite harshly on my lip, and I taste my blood. I know this isn't a compromising position, but it still has an effect on me, an effect that drives me crazy.

* * *

**AN: if you're reading this, then you probably read the whole chapter. Lol. So like, my life is getting a bit crazy so I may or may not update until a later day. Not really sure. Ever since Frankenstorm (or Hurricane Sandy) my professors have been rescheduling classes and trying to make up for lost work, especially for my English professor, who basically might have classes until January. Plus I'm a little behind on work because I've been editing and writing for this story and for National Novel Writing Month (which I won by the way!). Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Oh, and iGoodbye was okay. Pretty sentimental and heartbreaking, I mean.**


	7. Blind Rage

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo._**

* * *

I shoot myself up awake, breathing heavily and feeling wet and sticky, and not only on my skin.

_Down there._

I cuss under my breath and step out of bed. It's bad enough that I have an intense dream involving my best friend, but I have that dream and I'm on my best friend's bed, while she's right next to me.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I thought I have those when I'm alone, and that I don't have to feel much embarrassment as I do right now. I feel like shit, for having that dream, and for having it next to her. I know it's not my control and it's my mind telling me something, but that's just _plain_ wrong.

I also realize that I still have my street clothes on. I groan quietly and step inside the bathroom, as well as grabbing my clothes and underwear in there. I turn on the hot water and immediately peel off my clothes before stepping inside the foggy cubicle. The difference between my shower and Carly's shower is that she has a bathtub and a shower, while I have them separate. I don't mind, considering that the bathroom isn't in my control. I start to scrub myself vigorously under the scorching hot water, trying to remove the dirt I feel within myself. I still feel dirty even though my skin starts to feel raw and I see patches of red. It doesn't stop me from scrubbing.

I drop the soap and wash cloth in anger, and growl silently. I couldn't do it, I couldn't forget, I couldn't accept it, I couldn't embrace it. What kind of sick person, has one of _those_ _dreams_, next to her sleeping best friend, and not feel like complete dog shit? I can't fucking get over it, and it makes me feel so dirty that I have to almost tear my skin off to feel clean.

I shut the hot water off and dry myself, seeing clearly the almost bloody red patches on my legs and arms. I ignore them and put clean clothes on. I have to get out of here, and I know that Carly's a light sleeper. I leave the bathroom and the room quietly, leaving the doors open so she doesn't wake up while I leave. I'm outside the apartment when I hear a door open. I watch as Fredlumps tries to flee from his mother's clutches.

"Mom!" he whines.

"I didn't get to vacuum your ears yet," she exclaims.

I snort, and then he glares at me while he tries to lure his mother away from him.

"I have to go mom," he says quickly and closes the door behind him. I'm laughing at this point, and he's still glaring at me. I slowly stop laughing, and stare at him.

"What?" I playfully snarl, in which he rolls his eyes and tries to move me out of the way to go inside the Shay apartment.

"She's still sleeping," I state.

"I'm not here for her," he says matter of factly. "I'm here because Spencer invited me here."

"Oh that's nice, a guy's day out?" I tease. Everyone knows that Freddie only hangs out with girls, including me, most of the time, so they think he can't get any male friends, and that he's pathetic.

"Jealous?" He smirks.

"Gross," I snarl. "Why should I care what you two do?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, I just like teasing you."

"Too bad you suck at it," I retort. I pat him on the head once, and leave him in front of the apartment door, with a look of defeat. I'm at the lobby before I know it, and practically running out of the apartment building. I have to get home. Sometimes the damage done to my mother isn't very pleasant to see, and sometimes she has to go to the hospital for the injuries done to her. The last time it happened was weeks ago, around the time I broke up with Freddie. It was the worst moment of my life, since she had broken ribs and a nasty concussion. She spent the whole week in the hospital, while I had to stay home by myself, and fearing that her boyfriend would announce me his part time punching bag.

I find my house quickly, and open the door. It looks like a broken home, but it isn't as bad as before, considering I would find blood and glass everywhere. However, I do a double take on my mom's mini fridge on top of the island in the kitchen.

"What the fuck," I whisper, trying to retrieve the small fridge from the island. I see fresh, new cracks on top of the island, and I know it has to do with the fridge and the damage done to my mom. I sigh angrily, putting the fridge on the floor. I run up the stairs towards my mom's room, and I see my mom laying on the bed with her boyfriend on top of her. I ignore the bile raising in my throat as I wake the both of them up.

"What happened here?" I asked the both of them. My mom groans, as well as her boyfriend. They move from each other. My mother shrugs, while her boyfriend gets up from the bed, picking up his clothes and walking inside the bathroom.

"What happened?" I repeat.

"He asked me for beer," she responds. "I didn't have any, except for the stash in my mini fridge. He checks the inside of it, and takes the beer out of it, throwing the fridge downstairs."

"It landed safely on our island," I state sarcastically.

"He throws the cans towards me, and one of them is open, so it cuts me on my chest. The alcohol also spills on the fresh wound and burns me. I don't really remember anything else."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I really want to kill him, or give him a piece of my mind. He's destroying this household slowly and surely, and making my mom feel more inferior about herself.

"Did you find a safe haven?" She asks.

I nod shamefully. She knows that I escape every Friday, and she doesn't really mind, or care.

"I can't take this anymore," I admit. "If he continues to do this to you, I'm calling the cops."

"You can't do that!" My mother exclaims. "I love him."

I drop my jaw in shock and disgust. "You, of all people, taught me that a man that lays his hand on me, or any woman, is a piece of shit. How could you let this man, a prime example of a piece of shit, hit you like a punching bag, defile you like a whore, and treat you like a second-class citizen?"

"I—" she stops, looking behind me.

I turn around, and he's standing there with a wicked grin on his face. I lunge at him instantly and he drops to the ground. I punch him over and over again, harder with each punch, watching my knuckles slowly get wet with his blood, watching as his skin gets discolored under me.

"Do you like that?" I yell angrily, punching his lip to remove the grin and the snide comment I know he's going to say. I stop punching and grab his neck, squeezing his meaty neck tighter each second. He struggles to speak, struggles to breathe. He thrusts his body against mine, convulsing under me.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist, and I'm struggling against the pair of arms pulling me away from the sadistic male.

"Let me at him!" I growl, keeping one hand on his neck. I use my other hand to remove the arms from my waist, but to no avail. I elbow the person behind me, and the arms are immediately removed. I look behind me, but then I realize that's a bad mistake as I feel my body collide against the floor. I feel a foot stomp against my side, the same side that was kicked the last time. I yell in pain, but the pain doesn't go away. I feel the same foot kicking my side repeatedly. I try to move away, but he keeps kicking me in various parts of my body. The assault stops abruptly, and even though I'm in pain, I watch my mother being pulled to her room by her short hair.

I crawl all the way to my room and lay on the floor, while blocking the sounds of flesh against flesh and my mom screaming in blood curdling agony.

-x-

I wake up for the second time in the day, hearing complete silence within the room. I try to get up, but I can't because the pain on my side shoots up as soon as I'm on my two feet. I grit my teeth as I prevent myself from hissing out loud. The pain is unbearable, and I can't take it, but I fail to go back to the ground and lay there for another three hours. I get up finally and limp my way to the bathroom. It takes me a good minute to get inside the bathroom, and when I do, I open the medicine cabinet. Normally I don't take things like this, but I need to alleviate the pain from the obvious bruise I have on my side. I shake the bottle, receiving one capsule, and close my palm. I set the bottle down and turn on the sink. I pop the capsule in my mouth and cup the both of my hands to drink the water.

I gag silently after tasting the bitter water. Faucet bathroom water has to be the most disgusting type of tap water, ever, and it's almost the same water as the kitchen tap water. I'm never doing that again, I thought.

The painkillers don't exactly work instantly, they take at least ten minutes to work, but that doesn't stop me from leaving the bathroom and attempt to crawl out the window. I struggle to make my way down the tree, from my window to the grass. As I thought I'm hitting the floor, I trip and fall on my good side.

"Fuck," I cuss under my breath and try to get up again. It's almost to no avail, as I keep tripping on my own feet and grabbing the air so I don't have to fall. I do fall, considering I do grab at the air.

After a few minutes, the drug starts to work. I finally thrust myself up, and walk all the way to the warehouse. I walk in and find a few people inside there.

"Yo," I hear a familiar voice shout at me.

I turn around to see an older Jeremy approaching me. He doesn't attend Ridgeway anymore due to his chronic cold, but he got over it, since one of his friends introduce him to drugs. He still doesn't go to school. His parents don't care, and neither does he. He also is taller, and skinnier. He actually looks a little sickly right now.

"Hey," I greet, snatching the joint from between his fingers. "What's up?"

He snarls and snatches the joint from my hand before I think about inhaling it for myself. "Calm it, Blondie. This is the only supply we have today."

"Too bad," I retort. "I was hoping to spend my time here by myself."

"It's Saturday," Jeremy points out, like I didn't know already. "We hang out here all the time on Saturdays."

"Saturday _nights_," I say. "It's always at night."

"Things change Blondie," he shrugs. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"Shit," I reply. "I need some relief."

He nods understandingly. "Alright then."

He walks away, leaving me by myself for the time being. I inhale the smell of stale weed and the occasional tobacco and alcohol. There's always something illegal happening around here, but it never stops any of us. As a matter of fact, I don't think any of these junkies would ever stop. I could stop smoking if I wanted, but then again, it's a stress reliever and sometimes a truth serum, which I hate. I want to forget today's events, starting with the dream I had this morning. But i can't just delete it; trust me if I could, then I would, but not even the slightest taste of the bitter whiskey or the sweet, musky taste of the laced brownie would ever make me forget the fact that I'm falling for my own best friend, and I know I can't fix it. But I can't embrace it. I've seen so many people being killed and destroyed mentally and emotionally for having those thoughts in their heads; they were shunned from society, their family, their friends. I know neither Carly nor Freddie would hate me for being a lesbian, but what about everyone else? What parent would want to let their kid watch me on the Internet after the word is spread?

But I only like her, not every other girl out there.

I don't notice any other girl out there like I notice Carly, and I know damn well that I wouldn't like to. Maybe a select few, but that's it.

I shake my head from the thoughts, realizing that I'm possibly embracing my sexuality. I know I don't really have one, and I have nothing to embrace but the fact that my best friend is the starring role of my wet dreams. And while I accept that it happens, it's still wrong of me to have them while I'm right next to her.

I also don't care that I suddenly grab the bottle of alcohol and start to drink my Saturday afternoon away with very little care in the world.

* * *

**AN: Sorry this chapter is so late. I'm just so stressed over finals and stuff. Since it's Saturday, I thought it would suffice. i have a feeling that I'm failing one of my classes and I received an abysmal, ludicrous grade on my psych test, so like, I gotta study for my next one. And I did mention the issue with HS, so you guys should have expected a late chapter. Whether this is early or late than what you expected, it's still up guys. Hope you enjoyed it. And I posted two standalones since the last chapter. Check them out**!


	8. Hangover

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo.**_

* * *

I wake up in a room, and immediately regret it. A throbbing pain shoots up in my head, and a small sliver of moonlight blinds me temporarily. I groan in pain, realizing the pain is from the hangover I swore I would have while drinking the day before.

I check the time: 11:21 pm. How long have I been asleep? And wasn't it after noon that I started drinking?

I get up from the floor, but then I feel bile rise in my throat, and before I know it, I barely make it outside as I'm vomiting all over the pavement. It's barely much, I thought as I watch the sickly liquid splashes against the sidewalk. I take a deep breath and wipe my mouth from the remaining bile on my sleeve. I always swear that I will never drink, but yesterday is apparently an exception. I hate the feeling of throbbing headaches, the waves of nausea from every move you make, the squinting from the light, the sounds that could be quiet as a pin drop but loud to the one with the hangover.

And also, hangovers can never be cured.

Then, are they chronic, since they can't be cured? Then again, it's not a sickness.  
I sulk home, even though it's a short walk. I'm too nauseous and dizzy to climb up the tree, so I make a hasty decision by going through the front door. I find the key in its hiding door, unlock the door, and put the key back to its hiding place before walking in. I just want to sleep all day, I thought as I walk up the stairs and go to my room. I change my clothes to some comfortable ones, and fall against my bed, immediately falling asleep.

-x-

I wake up at the same time on Sunday. I slept for exactly 24 hours and I barely regret it. With a horrible hangover I had yesterday, I could basically say that sleep did the trick at helping me relieve the pain. Although I still have somewhat of the nauseated feeling. I step out of bed and go downstairs, looking for anything to drink. I've probably went into dehydration/starvation mode from not eating the whole day, and I need something before I go crazy.

I pull out some bread and water, deciding that is the best (and the only) thing I can eat. I start chewing on the bread, while downing the water. Even though I needed more food than that, the bread surprising fills me up, after 3 slices of the carbohydrate-rich food.  
It's probably the water as well.

I drink some more water and go back to my room, but I don't go back to sleep. I check my phone, and surprising I get no missed calls or messages. Great, that means I don't have to concoct a story to any of my friends as to why I went AWOL today.

I turn on the television, and start to watch Girly Cow until I feel like sleeping again, which decides to be in a few minutes after I turn on the TV. I lay my head on the pillow, and I go into sleep mode, again.

_"Hey," she whispers in my ear._

_I bite my lip shyly, watching as she saunters over to me and grabs me harshly._

_"I've been watching you," she smirks, placing a hand on my cheek._

_I flinch, but she uses her other hand to grab my chin and force me to face her. She still has the smirk on her face, but it's almost sultry and seductive. I don't know why she keeps looking at me like that, but before I ask, she kisses me instantly._

_I don't push back, instead I kiss her back, moving my lips the same way she moves her lips. She pulls away, and starts to leave a trail of her hot, peppering kisses down to my lower neck. She licks my collarbone, and I moan involuntarily. She turns me around, my back against her body. I feel her warmth radiating from her body to mine. She kisses my neck again._

_"I know you want me," she whispers. Then I feel her hands reaching lower, and lower, and lower, but she stops at my pelvic area, rubbing it teasingly._

_"Tell me you want me," she whispers. Her voice and the heat from her breath causes me to moan. She bites the lobe of my ear, and licks the shell. I cuss to myself; she discovered my weak spot, the spot that makes me go crazy._

_"Fuck," I moan._

_"Say it," she says a little louder._

_"I want you," I whisper._

_Her hand moves slightly, but it's still outside of my clothes. "Louder."_

_"I want you," I say louder._

_I feel her smirk, then she slides her hand under my pants, touching the wetness instantly. I scream in pleasure._

_"Say my name," she says, and starts to feather-touch my clit, driving me more crazy.  
I refrain myself, moaning and mewling from the the feather light touches she does to me. She keeps teasing me, touching me; I just want her to have me, the way we both want it._

_"I-_"

I wake up abruptly. Again, I manage to have another one of those dreams. My skin is flushed and sweaty, my sheets are uncharacteristically wet, and I feel a warm wetness between my legs. Also, I check the time: 8:40 am, and I realize that I'm running late for school. I sigh loudly, almost in a moan, and literally jump off the bed. I grab a towel, and go into the bathroom, showering under cold water and brushing my teeth quickly. I step out the bathroom, and hastily throw some clothes on, including underwear, and almost jump down the stairs. It would seem that I jump down the stairs, at the speed I run down from them, but I don't care, especially now that I grab my keys and leave my house, and taking the short route to school.

-x-

I barely make it before the bell rings, but I give myself an A for effort. I pant loudly after reaching my class, bending over and watching the sweat drop from my face to the floor.

"Sam!" Mr. Howard yells in a shrill voice.

"Sorry for being late," I growl, taking another breath and walking to my seat.

"I hate children," he mutters and starts his class.

The class goes by pretty quickly, mainly because I barely pay attention to the class. It's always about how much he hates children and his wife, and the students in his class pretend to care. It's a cycle every day in his pointless class, and even though I'm used to it by now, it's getting rather idiotic.

I leave his classroom after the bell rings, and go to my locker to get my books for another tedious class.

"Hi," Carly greets, after reaching her locker.

I grin at her, then go back to looking for my English books. I really need to clean this locker, soon.

"Where were you on Saturday?" She asks.

At this point, I've already find my books, and I pull a nearby trash can near me to clear out my locker. "I went back home. I had to check out the damage."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she worries. "You had me scared until Spencer told me that you left. Ad then you didn't contact me at all yesterday."

"I got sick," I half-lie. Well, the reason why I felt sick is because I downed a bottle of whiskey on Saturday afternoon with a bunch of idiots that never want to come to school, and a dropout named Jeremy.

She nods. "Okay, well, are you feeling any better?"

"I wouldn't be in school if I wasn't," I snort.

"That doesn't stop a lot of people, Sam," she jokes.

I stop cleaning, and raise an eyebrow at her. "It stops me."

"That's different," she says.

I shrug, while I threw out the last piece of garbage from my locker. "Well, some people like school. I happen to dislike school, because of pointy boobed Briggs, the biggest loser Howard, and Benson. Sometimes."

"God, you are really reverting back to old ways," Carly points out, amused.

"What an I say?" I smile back. "I can't always be kind to everyone, even if Benson and I had a thing going."

I close my locker, and we make our way to class. "I missed the old you anyway," she admits.

My stomach starts to flutter like crazy. "Me too," I laugh nervously.

Only thing is, it's the only way to hide everything from the world. Especially from her.

-x-

I leave school with both Carly and Benson, and apparently her boyfriend Shane. I growl silently when Carly tells me that her boyfriend was coming with us. I pretend to be okay with it and force a smile on my face, saying its okay that he can just infiltrate on our friend time. I know it's not always the three of us, especially when Gibby tags along, but he's not dating Carly. Shane is. I suck it up and walk with the on the way to the smoothie shop, with the 'happy couple' walking ahead of me.

"You look angry," Benson says, like it's not obvious at all.

"Really?" I say sarcastically, "I thought I was peachy and shit."

He cocks an eyebrow. "You can't fool me when it comes to your emotions, Sam. I've been your friend for years, and I've dated you for 2 months."

"Shut up, Benson. By the way, it was _five weeks_." I roll my eyes and try to walk faster so he wouldn't talk to me, but he holds me back by grabbing my wrist.

"Get your animal hands off me, Freddork," I growl.

"No," he protests. "I want to talk to you."

"I'm pretty sure the middle of the street isn't exactly private," I say angrily, trying to release my hand from Benson's grip. "Now get off me or I will have to use force, and trust me, it will not be a _simple_ love tap I've been giving you ever since I met you."

"I don't care," he retorts. "Can we please talk?"

"About what?" I half-yell, causing some pedestrians to look at us.

"Why are you so angry?" He asks me.

I roll my eyes and finally remove my hand from his death grip. "Since you're so fucking concerned for me, I'll tell you later, and not in the middle of the street."

Yeah, right. I just say that so he can let me go.

"Just answer the question," he groans. "I'm pretty sure it's not that bad that you have to tell me in private."

_Oh trust me, it is. _"Fuck off, Benson." I speed walk towards Groovy Smoothie, with him on my tail, but I didn't care. When did he start to care about my damn feelings? He's just a technical producer, who happens to be my ex. Maybe that's why he cares... he isn't over me completely. I mean, I know I'm wonderful and everything, but I've moved on... Well, not in the way I want to, but I did. He didn't, apparently.

I open the door to the shop, and find the 'happy couple' at a table by themselves. They are staring at each other's eyes, which is making me sick, _literally_ sick. Maybe my hangover isn't exactly treated, I thought as I race to the bathroom. I barely, and I actually mean _barely_, make it to a stall and I start to release all of my stomach contents, the sickly, acidic liquid stinging my esophagus and slapping against the toilet water and bowl. I groan as another wave of nausea hits me and I throw up again, more than how much I did the day before. Possibly way more, I thought as I dry heave, and I throw up again. I didn't even eat much today, how can I be throwing up so much?

I finally stop, and I wipe my mouth with a piece of tissue before flushing the toilet. I get up from the floor and dust myself, and check myself in the mirror. My eyes are now bloodshot, and I'm so pale that I look like I belong in the hospital. I turn on the cold water and splash my face quickly, and then shut off the water and wipe my face with the hand tissues they had. I leave the bathroom and rummage through my jacket pockets for some gum. I'm in luck, I thought as I pull the stick of gum from my pocket and unwrap it, and start to chew the spearmint-taste gum. Although the taste of the gum and my vomit don't exactly mix, I ignore it and walk over to my friends, pretending that nothing happened at all.

However, I catch Benson looking at me with a look that tells me everything, that he wants to know what's up with me. What's up with my friends, always trying to figure me out? I get that enough from Carly, why should this dork try to worry about me?

* * *

**AN: I'm back from my two week hiatus! The semester is over, so I have more time to update and stuff. And thanks for the reviews and stuff! It's relaxing to see that people are reading this! And please check out my other stories, you might like them (if you're a fan of my work or any of the other fandoms I posted.) **


	9. Freudian Slips and Ponies

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo.**_

* * *

"What the _fuck_, Benson?" I yell, after he pulls me outside the apartment towards the hallways. We went back to the Shay apartment to talk about what we should do for next week's show, and concluding on some skits that we haven't done in some while, and making sure that we include some guests in our show, we call it to a close, but before I know it, I'm being dragged against my damn will.

"So, are you going to talk to me?" Benson asks. "About earlier?"

"Whatever," I shrug.

"Why were you so angry?" He asks.

"I don't know, I just didn't feel happy," I lie, trying to end this conversation quickly and quietly. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're my friend," he replies.

"But you're not exactly my friend," I state coldly. I don't mean it; he's actually the closest friend I've ever had, except for Carly. However, I just want him to get angry and stop talking. Just for the sake of him shutting up and making me enjoy the rest of my day eating ham.

"We dated," he tries again.

I scowl. "So what if we dated? You still think things are awkward between us."

"No I _don't_," he objects. "I'm just concerned, worried; the feelings a friend usually feels for a friend when they aren't acting like themselves."

"What makes you think I'm not acting myself?" I ask defensively.

"Well, besides you going back to the nickname establishment," he smirks a little, but then he frowns. "You've been more moody, and tired lately. It's not you."

"Maybe I'm getting my period," I joke, knowing that I already receive that time of the month earlier in the month, so my moodiness is actually questionable.

"Yeah right," he rolls his eyes. "Now tell me the real reason."

"Nothing's wrong," I whine. "I'm just being my moody, mean self."

"Then explain why you ran to the bathroom as soon as you got to the Groovy Smoothie," he queries.

I thought he didn't notice that. "I was feeling under the weather. I can't really tell you anything other than that."

"Really," he queries. "Then why were you scowling at Carly and Shane all that time we were over there?"

"Maybe I don't like them together," I shrug, instantly regretting my choice of words. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I'm worried about you!" Benson exclaims.

"Well stop," I say. "I'm fine, no need to—"

"_Wait_," he interrupts. "Why don't you like them together?"

Wow, what an attention span he has. "I don't know, he's not a great guy for Carly."

"_You_ wanted him," Benson points out.

"That was like, two years ago!" I exclaim.

"So?" He shrugs. "It still counts."

"You annoy me, Freddie Benson," I groan. "What did I ever see in you?"

Despite me not meaning it, he looks taken aback, but hides it with a scowl. Luckily I catch it before he changes his facial expression. "The feeling's mutual."

I shake my head and smirk evilly. I don't mean it, I just want to annoy him and get him off-topic, but he takes it seriously, and that's what I want to see, instead if him trying to piece me out.

"You're funny when you're mad," I admit. "Especially when your neck vein pulses out in anger. I never understood that."

"_Sam_," he blushes furiously.

I sigh; I know this half-assed attempt for him to forget about this isn't working at all. But I don't want to talk about this, when I'm not ready. I probably never will be with that mentality.

"I really don't want to talk about this anymore," I admit.

"Too bad, because I do," he crosses his arms, and leans against the wall. "Seriously, what's with you?"

"I just said—"

"I know what you said," he interrupts. "And I'm not going to drop it. I want you to tell me what's wrong. It's like you telling me what's wrong would break you."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I'm getting really annoyed with his persistency with the issue. Doesn't he understand that I don't want to tell him how much Carly's relationship with Shane hurts me, because I'm falling in love with her? I just want him to stop it already. He's worse than Carly and her ability to detect lies, and then interrogate someone on the case until they tell her the truth. Why did I pick a pack of friends with an investigative attitude?

"I told you for the last time, I'm not—"

I turn around towards the door as soon as I hear the doorknob rattle. The door opens suddenly, and the guy from my nightmares steps out and walks towards the stairs. He looks dissatisfied and angry, but that's not in my concern. I turn around and enter the apartment, not noticing Benson on my trail. I notice once I'm all the way in, but I ignore him.

"What's up cupcake?" I smile at her, while she sits on the couch. I don't notice that she's angry until I sit next to her, and I don't notice I'm sitting too close to her until she brushes against me and leans her head on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Shane dumped me," she croaks.

_What?_ "Why?" I ask.

"I didn't want to..." She stops, and starts crying on my shoulder. I know what she means; he was just using her to get in her pants. I should've known once he touched her and his hands went up her skirt that day. That little _bitch_ wanted to use her for his sexual release! How _dare_ he?

"That idiot," I growl. "He needs to pay for hurting you."

"Thanks," she whispers, wiping her eyes. "But you don't need to do anything."

"Oh yes he does," I argue. "No one dumps on my girlfriend—I mean, my best friend like that."

Fucking _Freudian slip_.

"Thanks Sam," she blushes. She doesn't notice it, but I realize that we're not the only ones in the apartment building. I really thought I was safe this time as I almost let out that she was mine, in a way to be the jealous and protective girlfriend I was to Freddie.

"I'm gonna go take a bath," she announces, and disappears before I begin to protest. There is an uncomfortable silence that follows it for only a few seconds, before I turn to Benson, who still bores an amused but knowing smirk towards me. I know I have to explain that little moment right there.

"You say what?" He starts.

"Don't start on me, Benson!" I snap.

"I know why you've been acting weird now," he teases. "I should've known, from the moment you were trying to move away from her during rehearsal, and the way you look at her, and—"

"Shut up!" I yell.

"—when Shane got too close to her, and—"

"I'm warning you Benson!" I warn.

"Do whatever you want," he shrugs. "I don't care. It won't change anything. You're in love with her, and beating me up to a bloody pulp won't make you feel less in love."

He's right! Why am I trying to fight this? It's making me into something I'm not, but I'm not going to come out to the world anytime soon.

"You're right," I groan. "I love her, so much, that I just can't act like I used to around her. I try and I try, but the more I try, the more it hurts, and she continues to shove some guy she likes in my face, and the—"

"—more you have to watch the one you love, love someone else," we say at the same time. "I know how it feels."

"But this is different, Benson," I whisper. "I never liked another girl before. It isn't the same, because with you, you're supposed to like another girl, and I'm supposed to like another boy."

"By _what_ obligation?" He scowls.

"What're you trying to get at?" I ask.

He rolls his eyes. "Why should it matter that you like girls?"

"Because, if you haven't noticed," I snarl, "It's my _first_ time! And, I have always been with guys for almost my whole life. I'm not gay, or bi, or whatever—"

"How about you stop labeling yourself, and just let it go?" He tries to reason, but I can't just let it go. It's not an easy thing; I don't know why he's acting like its just another part of life. "It would make it harder if you keep downing yourself. Just be yourself."

"If I do, then she will hate me," I say.

"No, she wouldn't," he denies."You're her best friend. Why would she hate you for loving her? If anything, I think she loves you back."

"Why aren't you mad at me for... well, this?" I question, wondering why he's so optimistic about this. I thought he would be mad because we had a thing, and usually it's likely in some parts for a girl to have a complete turnaround with her sexual preference after dating boys her whole life and the man be extremely aroused, or angry about the situation.

Apparently, Freddie's neither.

"Because, you're my friend... kinda," he jokes.

I nod in understanding. "So, you're not mad, or _aroused_?"

"What kind of guy do you take me for?" He jokes. "By the way, I've always suspected something. And honestly speaking, if Carly wasn't your best friend, I would think she was in love with you."

I roll my eyes in amusement. "Whatever, Benson. Shouldn't you go back to _crazy_ and de-wax your ears or something?"

He sneers, "She doesn't clean my ears anymore."

Before I have a chance to reply, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn around, and watch as Carly makes her way towards us. She appears to be happier and calmer than before, since she's smiling at the both of us. I would think the smile's for me, but since I'm not alone here, that's not the case.

"Feeling better?" I ask the obvious, and I mentally slap myself in the forehead for asking.

She nods, and sits next to me on the couch. "I'm feeling even more better knowing that I'm with my best friends."

A comfortable silence follows the compliment after I snatch the remote from Benson's clutches and I turn it on. I skip over the idiotic channels, including the Dingo channel and the Mexican Dessert channel, and stop on another children's channel. I watch as five kids, apparently just having one black boy and one girl while the rest are just boys, and they act like martial arts superheroes. Whatever it is, it's awesome. And somewhat funny as I watch a Hispanic guy deliver a cheer to a pep rally team and then raises his arms, showing his obnoxiously hairy armpits.

"Why're we watching this?" Benson groans, breaking the silence.

"If you don't like it then you can leave," I retort, sending him a cold stare towards him.

He throws his hands up in mock defeat. "Whatever." He cocks an eyebrow in a knowing way, and then leaves the apartment, leaving me alone with Carly.

That's so much better, I thought.

"I would rather watch Girly Cow," Carly points out. She's completely in disgust as she looks at the armpit hair from earlier, but also because the crude humor isn't really her style.

"It's all fake," I giggle.

"Can we please watch something else?" she begs, after watching his hair get waxed, and so much hair came out of it.

"Your wish is my command," I laugh, and turn it to another channel, where there are six ponies, all of different colors, personalities, and types. Although I'm not the one for My Little Pony, I've caught Carly watch it too many times to count.

"Thank you," she smiles. "That last show was weird."

"I thought it was funny," I admit. Any children's show with that type of crude and sarcastic humor shouldn't be on children programs, but if I watch it, then anyone can watch it. "Besides, it's more actioney than this girly, sparkly, colorful crap."

"This show has action!" She defends. "And it shows you the importance of friendship."

"We're friends _already_ cupcake," I state. "But, I do like the rainbow one with the wings."

Figures, I'd like the colorful sporty one, in which a lot of people who would watch this show for the first time would assume the character is gay. "I like the pink one," Carly says, pointing towards the pink pony with a tattoo of three balloons on her lower side.

Figures, she would like the pink one. I _hate_ pink.

"I don't know, the gray one with the purple hair is kinda like you," I tease.

"Oh no," she scowls. "The gray one is such a priss."

I look at her with a look that says, 'exactly'. She gives me an offended look.

"I am not prissy!" She exclaims.

"I'm kidding," I grin, while she keeps the unamused and offended frown on her face. "Hey, I said I was kidding. You know I love you, prissy or not."

She blushes a little, and rolls her eyes in amusement. "You better be kidding."

I laugh, and continue to watch the show with her.

* * *

**AN: Merely a filler. The good stuff is coming next chapter, which you won't get until next year lololol I make myself laugh ;D Happy holidays! **


	10. Twentieth Century

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to. Trust me, if I did, it would not be on Nickelodeon, or MTV Networks for that matter. maybe Logo.**_

* * *

I wake up and realize that I fell asleep watching a My Little Pony marathon with Carly. She's under me, sleeping on my lap, while I find myself leaning on the end table. I look closely, and she's so _close_ to my crotch. I refrain from whimpering, and pushing her off, but if she stays there, then I will _lose control_. Fuck, why is she doing this to me? She's so close to me, that if someone walks in, it would look so wrong on so many levels.

The television is still on, playing some old show. I barely remember when I fell asleep, but as I look at the window behind me, it's late. I check my phone, and it's actually 2 am on the dot. I yawn loudly, causing Carly to stir under me.

"Sam," she moans quietly, and moves closer to me.

Holy shit.

Is she doing this on purpose? Something tells me she's doing this on purpose. Maybe she is doing this by accident, and she's just comfortable between my legs—

She moans my name again, and then she strokes my clothed thigh delicately.

I gasp, and cover my mouth with my hand I bite my hand in punishment for making a sudden noise, but fuck, _she's riling me up_.

I start to think of other thoughts after I notice she stops and my mind wanders to my mom. Shit, I haven't seen my mom all day and I should at least check up on her. Even though she knows I'm at Carly's house. I should just text her just in case she's up and telling me that she's okay. I quickly text a message to my mom. She still has a cellphone, which surprises me because her boyfriend could've broken it by now, with his rage. I send it and place my cellphone to the end table, push Carly off my lap haphazardly, and fall asleep again.

-x-

"Sam!" I hear a feminine voice yell at me.

I slowly wake up, and sigh lightly before looking at the face.

"Morning, cupcake," I greet tiredly. "What time is it?"

"Late," she replies. "You have an hour ready to get ready for school, that's how late."

I jerk up abruptly, looking at the time: 7:31 AM. How long have I been asleep? "Shit! I'll see you at school in a few."

I get up and run out the door, not saying goodbye. I have an hour to get ready, and it usually takes me an hour to get ready and go to school! Hey, I actually _take my time_ to get all pretty, especially for her. I run as fast as I could with sneakers on, all the way downstairs to the lobby (where Lewbert screams out unintelligible obscenities) and further towards my house. I realize that I left my bag at Carly's as soon as I'm standing in front of my house, but I text her, telling her to take my bag with her to school. I move the plant for the spare key, unlock the door, and place the key in its hiding place. I open the door, and rush to my room, and I take my clothes off, snatching a towel, and entering the bathroom. I take a five-minute shower and brush my teeth, all the while, hoping that I'm not late to school. I exit the bathroom, and I have 45 minutes left. I slow down a little, but I still rapidly throw some clothes on. I fix my hair a little, letting the curls free and wild. I smile at the mirror, satisfied at my look, and run out the house again.

I check my phone, and Carly texts me back saying okay. I mentally thank her and power walk my way to school.

I get to school with five minutes to spare, with Carly waving at me with my bag in her hand.

"Thanks," I say, throwing the bag on my shoulder.

"I can't believe you left it there," she laughs, walking inside the school building with me. "I thought you would never come back to get it."

"I realize I left it there when I was in front of my house," I explain. "I'm not going to run back to the apartment, when I know you're still there, and you're my best friend so you would never let me go to school without the basic necessities, even though I hate this place." I sneer a little at the last part. I _really_ hate this place.

"True," she agrees.

We go to our locker and I retrieve my books for my first class, which happens to be English. After I see Carly walk away to talk to a group of girls about the English homework, I feel someone's presence next to me. I whip my head around, and Frednerd is standing there with an amused grin on his face.

"What do you want?" I ask, slamming my locker shut, causing Benson and the people around me to jump in reflex.

He leans against the closed lockers. "So, what happened yesterday?"

"I stayed the night," I answer him. I wonder why he's so interested in my love life but at the same time, I'm happy he's trying to help me. Freddie knows Carly as much as I do.

"Did anything happen?" He questions, and wiggles his eyebrows idiotically.

I snarl, "Are you _insinuating_ that something happened last night between us?"

"No," he replies defensively.

"Then nothing happened," I lie.

He narrows his eyes. "You're lying."

Such an investigative attitude. "Nothing happened. We just innocently watched TV until we fell asleep."

It wasn't a lie, but I refuse to tell him that Carly slept peacefully on my lap, so dangerously close to my crotch, might I add. And I heard her moan my name a couple of times. That has to be the most erotic but _embarrassing_ moment of my life, and I'm not even with her.

"Sure," he laughs.

"Whatever, let's go to class," I drawl, and walk the familiar route to English class, with Benson following me.

-x-

I sit silently by myself at the warehouse, feeling my high dissipate within me. It's been a few hours since I left school, and after a crappy day at school, I decide to go home, or pretend to go home by myself. I don't feel right inside my room, so I decide to spend most of my afternoon here, enjoying my new stash of that good stuff before someone comes in and wastes it with some unworthy addict.

"Yo," I hear a familiar, masculine voice call out to me.

I whip my head to the right and I see two of my ex-boyfriends Jonah and Pete looking at me pathetically. I sneer coldly at them and give them a one-finger salute as a greeting. I hate the both of them since they met each other. They both dislike me, even though they both dated me once in their life.

"The fuck do you assholes want?" I sneer, controlling the insults from releasing from my mouth. No one knows or understands how much I hate these people standing in front of me. I hate them more than I hate myself for denying my feelings.

"We were hoping it was rid of all people," Jonah retorts.

"Oh I forgot," I say monotonically, "you _faggots_ come here once a day to fuck each other's brains out."

"No," Pete growls. "We do our usual here."

"And then the MDMA prompts you to fuck," I retort. "Obviously you don't know the real effects of ingesting the drug, because you use it, and then you bitch about how your bums are sore, and you can't remember what happened at all."

"That was a one time thing," Jonah exclaims.

"And we never did it again," Pete chimes in.

"Sure," I joke, getting up from the floor. "But, who am I to impose on your lovely date with a drug named ecstasy? After all, you two ruined my high for the evening."

"It"s Explosion night," Pete beams, and Jonah glares at him. I laugh at them, getting up from the floor.

"You two are cute together," I joke.

The two idiots blink in offense. "Whatever," Jonah mutters, pushing me out of the warehouse with one hand. The door closes, and I'm left outside in the dark, hearing the usual night sounds of the neighborhood.

"You're _welcome_!" I yell at the door. I make my way towards the big tree next to my house, and I start climbing up the big tree to my room. I open the window and step in before shutting it closed. I turn around, and someone is standing there, but I couldn't make the body out in the dark. I raise an eyebrow, and clap two times, turning on the automatic light.

"What're you doing here?" I growl, staring coldly at the man who causes my mom to cower in corners and for me to hold in my anger and why I still have dull aches on my side.

"Where have you been?" He asks.

I sneer coldly at the man. "Why the fuck should it matter to you?"

"You're not supposed to be out this late," he says with a dangerous voice that should scare me, but I hold my ground. I thought I'm a coward, but this man just takes the fucking cake.

"Really," I say sarcastically. "Who says I shouldn't be out this late?"

"I do," he points to himself, like he's the head of the household.

My jaw drops incredulously. Who does he really think he is? "You're not the boss of this house. You're just a piece of shit that gets kicks out of beating someone up."

"You're right," he shrugs. "But you can't do anything about it."

He lunges at me, but I am ten steps ahead of him, grabbing his fist. "You probably shouldn't have done that," I quote, drawing my fist back and punching him. He falls back against the floor, and it seems like déjà vu as I punch him wildly with both of my fists colliding with his face. It's already bruised, but I will not make this man treat me like a second punching bag because my mother is getting too _boring_ for him. He doesn't know who the hell I am, and he has no idea that his blind fury resembles mine. If not, then I'm worse.

He groans loudly with each punch, but then I stop punching him. I get up from the floor, but I keep one heeled foot on his chest, preventing him to get up.

"Listen here, you _sadist_," I sneer. "I am not your punching bag, and neither is my mother. You leave us alone, or I'll call the cops on your ass. Got it?"

He nods silently, no trace of amusement on his face. Just fear.

"Good."

This man has met his match, and he doesn't even know it. No one dares touch my family, or my friends, or me, without getting beaten up. Speaking of that, I should pay a visit to Shane sooner or later. That ass dumped my girl—I mean best friend, because she has values for herself, unlike any other girl out there. Fuck, guys _seriously_ make me sick. Now I _really_ sound like a lesbian.

I kick the man on his side and prompt him to get out of the house. He gets up and runs out the house frantically. I smirk evilly to myself, and walk downstairs. I open the freezer and grab my butter sock. I feel the hardness of the butter, testing to see if it's as hard as a brick. It's my weapon of mass destruction, used to beat up the idiots in the Dingo channel, and almost used it for Steven's cheating ass. I would've used it but Carly said no. Fuck, he would've met some real payback for playing two girls like that. But now, I think someone deserves this more than Steven does.

Time to swing an asshole back to the twentieth century.

* * *

**AN: Happy 2013 people! Yay, new year, same ol' me. By the way, thanks a lot you guys. I'm getting a lot of hits for this story even though I felt like this story won't be read as much as the rest, considering the nature, the themes, and the pairing, but seriously, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. And no, that's not a cliffhanger. Well, in my opinion it's not. But if you're 'pissed' at my little ending, then you're gonna have to wait until next week for the next chapter to see what happens! (:**


	11. Hope

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

I walk down an unfamiliar route, following a friend's knowledge of Shane's house. The person says that his house is the nice one at the end of the block, so I walk further down the street, looking at each detached house. When I near the end of the block, I look across the street, but the house is run-down, so I look to the house across from it, and smirk in trumph. I finally found the house, I thought as I step up the stairs and rap my fingers on the wooden door angrily. Hopefully he is home alone so this job is easier.

The door opens to reveal a disheveled Shane glaring at me.

"What are you doing here?" He asks me. "It's too late at night for your shit."

"I came here for my revenge," I retort, pushing him out of the way to walk inside the house. It isn't a bad home, but I still feel foreign in this idiot's home.

"_Revenge_?" He scowls. "Are you talking about me picking Carly over you?"

"Ha!" I laugh incredulously. "You gotta be kidding me. I wouldn't give a fuck if you picked Missy over me. You have some nerve dumping my friend for a petty problem like that."

"She wasn't willing to lay," he shrugs, like Carly's body isn't much of a care.

I snarl in disgust. "So what? That doesn't explain why you dumped her. Unlike the sluts at Ridgeway, she was willing to wait until she fell for someone. She thought you were the one, which is absurd because you're just like the others, but you broke her heart, and now you're going to pay."

I whip out my butter sock, and started swinging at him, hitting him in the face. "Score one for Puckett," I smirk, as I still swing my butter sock at the guy. He yells in agony, clutching his face. I laugh, hitting him on the side of his torso. He crashes back on the wall, and groans in pain. I want to break every bone in his body right now, but my conscience is preventing me from doing so. He was in the hospital before, and I'll send him back there if I want to. He's bleeding under me, and bruises are forming on his body.

"You _disgust_ me," I sneer, punching him in the face. "That's for Carly, and the other girls who've been dumped by you because they weren't '_willing to lay_'." I growl the last words in disgust. How dare he say that about my friend, and other girls who have values of their bodies?

I drag him out of the doorway forcefully, ignoring the agonizing screams he releases, and leave the house in a hurry.

I don't know where to go, because I don't want to go back to my house for the time being. I pull out my cellphone, and it's almost midnight. Wow, it really is late. I power walk down the streets, watching some children run freely in the streets and some groups of people huddling up for either drugs or fire. It isn't that cold, but maybe it's because I'm currently calming down from an adrenaline rush, so maybe I'm just hotter than they are.

I stop at a familiar building, and going inside it. I hear the idiotic doorman snoring from afar, and some leftover pudding is stuck on his face and chest. I laugh silently and walk up the stairs, two at a time, and knocked on the door.

"Coming," I hear a female voice yell. Wait, she isn't sleeping?

Carly opens the door and she widens her eyes. "Sam?"

"Hey cupcake," I greet, making myself inside the apartment and sitting on the couch. I hide the bloody butter sock in my jacket even further. I have to wash it sooner or later.

"What'd you do?" She assumes, noticing my sweaty forehead and my hand inside my jacket.

"I used the butter sock today," I admit, pulling it out. I whip it in the air a couple if times before folding it back up.

"On who?" Carly asks, looking apprehensively at me.

I almost start to regret telling her, but she knows he deserves it. "Shane."

"Oh my god, Sam," she exclaims. "Why'd you do that?"

I shrug, "He deserved it. And you know it."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to get _blood_ on it," she crosses her arms, and gives me a mock angry look. I know she wants him to get a piece of his own medicine. And she's failing at trying to act sympathetic to an idiotic guy.

"Come on, you know he deserves it," I whine. "And trust me, I did _nothing_ to him."

She grins at me playfully. "My hero."

"You're welcome," I reply triumphantly, feeling somewhat accomplished from saving the day. I laugh to myself at the thought of it. Although I'm not saving anyone from danger, I'm trying hard—maybe too hard—for Carly to see that she doesn't have to look far. I'm always here for her, even if she didn't love me back in the way I want her to. Even though it would be the best thing in the world if she loves me back.

She hugs me around my waist, putting her head against my chest. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, cuddling with her under the dark and the glowing dim light of the moon.

-x-

It's been a week since the whole beating, and I haven't seen Shane since that night. It's Saturday, and I'm at Carly's apartment. I spent the whole weekend at the house, even though I haven't seen my mom's boyfriend appear at the house since I've threatened him to leave the premises. My mom is now a little happier than she was before, and actually made breakfast yesterday morning before I went to school and stay the weekend at my best friend's place.

"Whats up my sister and her friend that never wants to be at her home?" Spencer greets us at the kitchenette we are at. Carly is making bacon for breakfast (mainly for me) while I'm checking the web-show website. This week's show is better than last week's, since the fans almost suspected my weird behavior. This week, they praise our show, saying how wonderful it was.

"Nothing," we answer in unison.

"So, what's the sculpture of the week?" I ask Spencer, while he holds a bag full of feathers.

He beams, "I'm creating a sculpture made up of earwax and feathers. It's a surprise."

"Earwax?" I question.

"I ran out of glue," he says sullenly, then escapes to his room. I stare at Carly, wondering how a grown man could be so weird but his sister could appear so normal.

"I don't know," she says defensively, like she is answering my internal question. She places the bacon on a plate, and hands it to me with a glass of blue tea.

"Thanks cupcake," I beam, taking a piece of the savory substance and eating it.

Just as she is about to reply, the door opens, revealing a happy Benson.

"Good morning," he greets us, overly excited.

I raise an eyebrow. "Why so giddy? Did your mother deactivate the parental controls on your television?"

"She did that a month ago," he retorts. "And my mom let me go to the NERD camp that Sam ruined for me long ago."

"That's great!" Carly exclaims, wrapping her arms around the happy Benson. I refrain myself from sneering. He is my friend, after all, and the only guy I tolerate at the moment.

She finally lets go, and I nod towards his way. "Congratulations, Benson. Now you can spend a whole summer in a place full of inexperienced dorks."

He snarls at me. "Whatever."

"You two really haven't changed," Carly giggles.

"I can't be 'depressed' forever," I joke, knowing that I wasn't depressed at all after the breakup. Just depressed about being in love with my best friend.

They both nod, and I continue to devour my bacon and tea. Benson watches me in mock disgust, while Carly watches me in awe. I glance at them, and they both look away from me. Carly is blushing furiously, while Benson looks at her with the same expression he gave me when he found out that I was in love with her.

At first, I would have been like, why is she blushing at me, but I actually feel a jumping, excited sensation inside me. I grin at them, and continue eating.

-x-

"Oh my god, did you see the blush on her face?" Benson beams at me after we both decide to have a day out without Carly. She has, by force, to help her brother Spencer with a weird sculpture. We both back out before Spencer asks us, and the last thing we saw was Carly's disappointed glare, mixed with a disgusted glint in her eyes.

"Yeah, I saw it. What's your _point_, Fredbag?" I ask.

"I was right," he replies, grinning like an idiot.

"That doesn't mean she wants me the same way I want her," I point out. "She probably just looked away because she hates my eating habits."

"No," he objects. "She _blushed_. And I've seen that blush way too many times to know what it means."

I roll my eyes, "You _really_ want us to be together, don't you?"

"That's what you want, right?" He asks.

"Not if she doesn't want to," I reply. I know I'm not going to force my best friend to be with me, but if she wants me, then yes, it's what I want.

"I know she likes you. That's why I'm helping you," he says, like it's obvious that he's helping me on my failing love life.

I laugh, "I know you're helping me, but d'you know exactly that she feels the exact same way?"

"I don't need to talk to her to know that she feels the same way," he replies confidently.

"Alright, mister confident. I don't need to stress more on it," I say sarcastically.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. "You are so negative."

"Well, sometimes we need to think realistic," I point out.

"That doesn't mean, 'I'm never going to get the girl because I'm a girl myself'," he quotes.

"I don't even know what I am," I snap. "What makes you think I would have the confidence to ask my best friend for over nine years, out?"

"Stop _labeling_ yourself," he snaps back.

"I'm not labeling myself," I argue. "I'm just confused. I can't stand boys besides you and Spencer, I don't really like girls, but I love her. What kind of person am I?"

He frowns. "Fine, what do you think you are? Don't say you're confused, just say what you think you are."

I bite my tongue, preventing me from saying 'confused'. I still don't know what I am. And he keeps saying it doesn't matter. Well in a way he's right. Maybe I should stop labeling myself... I mean, I just explained myself as a misanthropic teenager with a lesbian crush on my best friend. Well, it's true. Whatever.

"A human," I reply.

"Well there you go," he jokes. "Congratulations Sam, you're a human."

"Shut up," I chuckle.

"Well you wanted to label yourself," he argues.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Shut up."

"Shutting up," he throws his hands in mock defeat.

A comfortable silence passes for a few seconds before we start laughing together. People look at us while they walk by, but we ignore them, laughing to ourselves and at the people staring at us. Well, it's better than us arguing about something childish like what we did when we were younger, and even when we were together. We both move on to different things and different people, even though I'm moving on to a girl who has no idea of my love for her.

I'm not going to force her to like me, but I still have the thought in my mind, wondering if she does like me that way, especially after the small, subtle hints she drops on occasions. She never did that before, and it's weird how she does them, after my breakup, and most importantly, during and after her relationship with Shane.

I just hope I gain the confidence and I feel the okay to finally tell her the truth.

* * *

**AN: Hey guys - this story is NOWHERE near over, just more chapters and stuff. But I really like this chapter, because it's not as angsty as it usually is. I mean, some angst stories deserve some light. Anyway, hope you guys are enjoying the new year... I'm not. Seriously, after the Justin Bieber thing, I just know that 2013 is going to be shitty in pop culture. Lol sorry for the randomness. I should also be posting some other fics so be on the lookout! (If you're a fan of what I write, lol.)**


	12. Detention

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

School's becoming more of a time-waster.

I sit in the principal's office, waiting for Ted to call me in. Apparently I'm in trouble because I keep skipping my detentions. Well I wouldn't be skipping them if these teachers would leave me alone. Fuck, I was actually paying attention in class when Mr. Stupid Howard shows up and tells me I have to go to the principal's office for skipping detention. That was two weeks ago!

"You can go in now," I hear the principal secretary tell me.

I smile at the lady, and saunter over to the principal's office. I open the door, and he's sitting in his chair, typing something in his computer and has a phone between his ear and his shoulder. If he isn't principal of this school, I would mistake him for Barack Obama.

"Hold on Sam, I have to confirm a rescheduling of a conference call," he announces.

I sigh and lean back on the comfortable chair. I remember all of the times I've been in here: skipping detentions before and getting caught on the dot, changing Carly's grades to an A, weekly principal visits during the eighth grade, the wedgies I would give to both Gibby and Jeremy, so much mischief. I stop doing almost all of those things, but I still torment some kids, because, come on, old habits die hard. Some of the pranks lose their luster, some of the people lose their sense of humour. I sigh; things were so simple back then. People say I was a free spirit; some others say I owned Ridgeway. I have to give it up for them, they were right. But what am I now? Am I serious? Do I finally have a grip on that little bitch named reality?

He hangs up the phone, and looks at me sternly. "Sam, I thought you would stop the skipping detention already."

He's right; I haven't been in a detention for quite a while. There's no fun staying after school, but some things can't just die immediately. I can't abandon my duties as a part time wedgie giver to nerds, I can't stop insulting my teachers and Freddie. That's not going to work all of a sudden.

"I wouldn't have to go if Mr. Howard would stop sending me there," I complain.

"You have to go when you're scheduled for detention, Sam," he stresses. "I know he can be a bit... unreasonable, but you only have a year left here."

"He scheduled a detention, on the same day I had to do iCarly," I explain further. "And it was an important one."

Franklin sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course he reasons with me. He's a fan of iCarly; as well as 90% of the student and faculty body at this school. If iCarly is cancelled, there better be a good reason, like one of us getting sick, or one of us getting in trouble with law enforcement. "Fine, then, just go to detention today, and don't worry about making up any other detentions."

I knew he would leave me off the hook after I mentioned iCarly. I didn't even need Carly to help me get out of this situation. "Thanks, Ted."

"Sam," he frowns.

I smirk playfully. "Thank you, Principal Franklin."

"You're welcome," he nods. "Don't make me regret my decision."

I nod, and leave his office to go back to class. Just as I am on my way there, Carly's standing near the office, and starts interrogating me on the matter.

"What happened? Did you put another snapping turtle in the teacher's bathroom again? Don't tell me you have detention all week—"

"Calm down Carls," I say, grabbing her shoulders to keep her from flailing. "I only have detention today. Principal Franklin lowered my detention days because I kept skipping them."

She nods. "Good. Because we have rehearsal tomorrow."

"I know," I say. "But since I kept skipping detention, I gotta do the time."

She giggles. "You're right."

"Let's go back to class?" I say.

She nods quickly and we walk back to class, while the idiotic teacher glares at us for being out of the classroom. I chuckle and sit in my seat, pretending to listen to Ms. Briggs' boring lecture.

"After being rudely interrupted..."

-x-

"You're gonna be alright?" Carly asks me by my locker. It's the end of the day and I have to report to detention, while both Carly and Frednerd go home. I really want to go home.

"Don't worry Carls," I smile at her. "I'll be fine."

_Trust me, I'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere._

She grimaces and nods. "Okay then, see you later."

She puts a hand on my shoulder, but she hesitates. It seems like she wants to say something, but she can't. I freeze in place, hoping she would say _something_, or remove her hand from my shoulder. Her touch is sending shocks all over my body.

"Carly?" I question.

She shakes her head quickly, "Sorry for that." She nervously laughs, and hurries off to her apartment, leaving me in the school.

What was that about?

I walk in the detention room a minute late, after being too lazy to be early. Mr. Howard stares at me while I walkover to an empty seat. I really don't want to be here, but I know I would be better off doing it now than doing it a different day. There are only 2 students in here, all of them I recognize since they're detention regulars. The one sitting next to me, his name is Rodney, but everyone calls him Rip-off. He always has some cheap knockouts of anything we want, even food. I think he would make a great drug dealer, but he says he isn't into that stuff. I think that's total bullshit, but not everyone's into the drug scene, so I guess he isn't lying.

Two chairs down is a kid named Beatbox Wesley. He still does that annoying thing, but I don't mind it now since we aren't in the same classes, and he rarely talks to me, let alone Carly or Freddork. He's gotten taller since the last time I saw him, which was like, a year ago.

As soon as Mr. Howard opens his mouth, one more person walks in. A rush of red hair, and clothes that only Carly would wear.

"I'm sorry for being late," she says, while panting loudly.

Everyone stares at her, and I'm still trying to put my fingers on who the hell she is. She sounds and dresses familiar. I know it isn't Wendy, so I'm not going to be happy that one of my junkie partners will join me in detention (with the exception of Rip Off... I swear he's hiding some speed in his jacket right now.)

"Whatever," he growls, and she sits two chairs down from me.

"Great, all of you are here," Mr. Howard snarls.

"Woo," I cheer sarcastically.

Some of the kids snicker, while Mr. Howard narrows his eyes. "You're lucky you only have to serve detention today, Puckett. That comment would've cost you double detention."

It's true, since I'm so special. The rest of these delinquents, not so sure.

The girl turns around and stares at me. It's then I recognise the red head that I start to snarl angrily.

"Missy." I whisper. Of course, it has to be Missy Robinson, the same girl who tried to break my friendship with Carly years ago. I haven't seen her after the School at Sea program, so I assumed that she moved or that she just dropped off the face of the earth. She stares at me with an unreadable expression; like she's looking for something to say, but she can't.

"What're you staring at?" I yell.

She shakes her head. "Nothing much."

I refrain from retorting to her comment. She's obviously bitter because Carly picked me over her, and she has nothing now. Carly also mentions that she has boat sickness, so she didn't enjoy the school at sea thing. I felt sorry for her, but now, I just don't.

"How mature, Robinson," I reply maturely.

She sneers at me. "What d'you know about maturity, Sam? You do a childish show with Carly, after all."

"I know that you took my spot for cohost after you gave me rancid Persian chocolate," I remind her, when she shouldn't be talking in the first place.

"Can the both of you shut up?" Mr. Howard shouts, making the both of us stare at him disgustingly.

I don't need this, I say to myself and sigh exasperatingly. I put my head on the desk, hoping this detention would just be done already. I hate being here longer than I needed to, especially for a stupid detention I didn't need.

I hear a loud noise in my ear a minute later, and I jump, literally, out of my seat. The room is empty, void of any student, and Mr. Howard snickers at me.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" I snarl.

"Detention ended an hour ago," he says, ignoring my question.

An hour ago? Why didn't anyone wake me up? "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I like watching you suffer," he replies.

"What a surprise," I mutter, and make my way out of the detention room. The hallways are also quiet, but it isn't late. It's quarter after six, and usually the night workers are here for night school. It's too quiet for school to still be open, but I ignore that as I leave the school and make my way home. It isn't daylight savings time yet, so everything is dark after four. It looks like I probably spent the night in school rather than spending my whole afternoon here.

I walk all the way home, slowly but surely. It's a late day, and I just want to go home and sleep. Possibly do some homework... ha, never, not even once in my life. I hope he isn't back, because if he is, then I will enforce a harder threat, using my butter sock and such. Speaking my butter sock, I should replace the butter... maybe by the end of the month. The last time I check on it, it was mouldy, but I don't really care. Just as long as it's still hard enough to break faces, like what I did to Shane a week ago.

I open the door to my house, and walk in to a sight I thought I would never see, ever in my life.

"What're you doing here?

* * *

**AN: God, why is this so short? Oh well, I'm just not feeling this chapter anyway. I know you don't either so whatever. Filler! Hahaha.**


	13. Doppelgänger

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

I couldn't believe it. She's here. But why?

"Hi Sam," my actress of a sister, Melanie, waves at me, with a fake smile to top it all off. Her girly clothes, her pin-straight hair, her face full of makeup, her whole presence makes me sick.

I narrow my eyes. "I'm going to ask you again. What're you doing here?"

"I want to visit my best sister, and my mom," she says sweetly. Her voice makes me want to vomit, no seriously. I give her one of my hateful looks, meaning that i don't trust her. She's just here to get more drugs into her system.

"Bullshit," I mutter, pushing her out of the way. "Where's mom?"

"I'm going out," my mom calls out, her hair fixed and all of her bruises faded, as well as the cuts and other bodily attacks that man did to her. "See you guys later."

Before I try to stop her, mom leaves the house, leaving me with my doppelgänger from _hell_. After the door closes, I see Melanie's face turn into a scowl.

"Where's the stuff?" She asks, with venom dripping in her tone.

Do you see the complete turnaround? It's been like that since the summer before high school, when I saw her for who she really is... a real part of the sociopathic family that is mine. That summer has to be the most entertaining summer of my life.

I roll my eyes. "You still do that stuff?" I shake my head and watch as her facial expression turns more annoyed.

"I'm serious," she growls, getting in my face. Up close, I can smell the tobacco in her aura. It smells stale, and before I know it, my nose wrinkles from the horrible, almost-acrid smell. "Where is it?"

"Where you left it," I lie. I don't have it anymore, since I used it all the time she was at boarding school. When school gets tough and all you have is pot, all you need extra is either some rolling paper, or some brownie mix. Both have psychedelic, semi-_orgasmic_ results.

"Yeah, right," she snarls, walking up the stairs to our once shared room. I follow her, just so I can get a laugh at her acting like a crazed addict. Well, she isn't an _addict_, she's an abuser. She has the conscience to stop, but she chooses not to. Her willpower is weaker than mine.

I watch as Melanie searches my room like a police officer during a drug raid. I smirk in amusement as my room practically gets trashed, as my sister bends down under my bed to look for what's not there. I laugh at her, and she lifts her head up, staring at me.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"I lied to you," I say. "I used it all, sweetie. I thought you knew not to trust me with that stuff."

"You bitch," she gasps. "Never again."

I shrug in amusement. "Why do you put this girly façade on for everyone to see except me? Especially that time you came to visit and tried to quit tobacco to date Freddie. You couldn't do it."

She sighs exasperatingly. "I don't know. I figured mom had enough delinquency from _you_. So I put the skirt on, straight my hair and make my voice high, just so mom can see me as a different person. I'm not trying to make you look bad, trust me. I'm just as badass and antsy in boarding school."

"You better be," I smirk.

"Plus, there has to be at least one good Puckett in this family," she says, giving me a triumphant grin.

"I'm good!" I exclaim.

She frowns and raises an eyebrow. "You, good? Sam, you beat up your own ex-boyfriends, you give people wedgies, you beat up truckers with a milk carton, and you dump chili down a foreigner's pants. You have a record, for Christ's sake. That's not good behavior."

"Oh really?" I retort. "May I remind you who was the one who thought it was a great idea to grow marijuana plants in the backyard? And also that mega-wedgie you gave to Nosy Mosby? Oh, and that time you told me the story when you almost stabbed that girl for stealing your flat iron?"

"That little slut didn't ask me!" Melanie argues. "And, they were asking me for so much money for a fucking tea bag. Gotta grow my own stuff."

"That's illegal!" I shout.

"I knew that!" She shouts back. "But, I would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for them meddlin' kids!"

I remember that day like it was yesterday. My sister Melanie came home complaining how much it cost to get a tea bag of weed. I mindlessly suggest she grows her own stuff, and the next thing I know, she has flowers with the recognizable leaf all over the backyard. Two days later, the police raids the backyard because a source rats her out. She gotten away scot-free after my mom's boyfriend, at the time, bails her out. And Melanie stabs this girl when she took her straightener back at her boarding school, just to fix a strand of hair. When Melanie told me that story, I laugh my heart out, and we were high when she told me.

"Maybe you would've gotten away with it if you grown it inside the house," I suggest.

Melanie snarls at me. "Are you kidding me? That'll make the house smell."

"Nah, not really." The house wouldn't smell that way. Even if it did, it would be better than the smell of moldy food.

"Whatever," she waves off. "Anyway, how's life? How's your friends?"

"The same shit every day," I sigh. It's always the same here, whether I like it or not. It's okay though, I would probably not have it any other way. "Getting in trouble and the whole nine."

"I figure that much, jailbird," she deadpans. "So where am I sleeping?"

I shrug. I really don't know where she's sleeping, because I just got the memo of Melanie's return to Seattle for the week. But it isn't a holiday. "In your old room?"

"Fine," she pouts, taking her bags to her old room before she moved to boarding school. It's a small room, but it's better than nothing. "I could fix it up and sleep on it for the time being. I'm just here for a few days."

I nod, and walk over to my room.

-x-

_Another day_, I whisper to myself.

But, then, I check my clock, and it's an hour after school usually starts. I shrug and stay in bed, I wasn't planning on going to school today. I could miss one day and get away with it. Besides, my sister is back, and I bet she wants to be by my waking side every minute, for mom, and for catching up. Plus I owe her for using all of her weed.

"Sam," Melanie smiles as she barges into my room.

"You didn't wake me up for school," I whisper at her.

"Oh suck it up little one," she laughs at me. "Tell your little friends that you're going to spend the day with me."

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Since you're home, I thought it would be great to spend some time at the house a few steps from here," she explains. "And since you owe me from using up all of my weed, I'm holding you hostage."

That isn't much of a punishment, I thought, but then again, she might tell me about her stupid love life at the warehouse, while being high. I guess it is a punishment.

"Whatever," I mutter, and step out of bed, throwing some clothes on. "Let's leave from the window."

"What? No!" She exclaims. "You know I'm afraid of heights."

"We are not that far up," I tell her, pointing towards the three-foot jump from the window. She shrugs, and pushes me out of the way to go first. I sigh exasperatingly, and make my way down the tree to the grassy ground beneath me. I text both Carly and Freddie that I'm not coming to school, and I await their reply as I catch up with my sister on the way towards the house.

-x-

"...so I give him eight months of my life, and he repays me like this?" Melanie sobs, while throwing the empty joint across the room.

She's talking about her ex-boyfriend, who dumps her for her roommate. Apparently they had eight months of a relationship, longer than mine and Freddie's, and she 'gave him everything'. All of this relationship talk makes me depressed, because the one that I want would never give that to me, unless I'm a guy. I'm just going to be forever alone, while my sister complains about how her love life fucking sucks. And as long as I keep loving Carly, I will never be lucky with anyone else, not even Freddie. I wouldn't want him anyway. He wouldn't want me either.

"What a shame," I fake-sympathise. "You should get him for everything he did to you."

"But despite everything, I still love him," she sobs harder, with the occasional snot coming out of her nose.

It isn't that serious. "And he doesn't love you. So get him. Might I _recommend_ the butter sock?"

Despite the sadness in her aura, she laughs at the mention of the butter sock. We both have a weapon of mass destruction, and while mine is a sock with a block of frozen butter in it, she happens to have her sharp point pen, in which she used for stabbing the girl who took her flat iron.

"Nah, I got my pen if all else fails," she replies.

"All else has failed, woman!" I jokingly exclaim, making her laugh harder. "Seriously, get the little asshole. I had to use my butter sock for my best friend when this... idiot broke her heart because she didn't want to fuck him. There's blood on it now."

"My pen is a little more lethal," she boasts.

"Yeah, and while you're crying your eyes out over here, he's having fun with that bitch of a roommate over there," I retort. "So when you're done visiting mom and me, you go back to him and give him a piece of your mind. Seriously, you cannot keep acting like Shirley Temple as long as you're part of this jail-ridden family."

"I do not act like Shirley Temple," she complains.

I shake my head in amusement and throw away the finished joint. My sister only got tobacco, and while I hate smoking the nicotine enriched, processed plant, I don't want to feel alone here.

"What about you sis? What's really going on with you?" My sister asks, after hours of talking about her.

I shrug. "Eh, I don't really have much to say."

"What?" She scowls. "You and Freddie? The show? _Mom_?"

"Freddie and I broke up," I tell her.

"I know, you told me that," she deadpans. "Well... have you tried dating again?"

"_Gross_," I say disgustingly. I know she's going to mention some guy for me to date, and I'm not okay with that. As a matter of fact, I'm feeling repulsive by any guy she's going to mention, because it's either the preppy guys back at her boarding school, or one of the guys from here.

"Come on Sam," she sighs. "Don't give up on love just yet."

_Oh trust me, I have not._ "I'm not giving up."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know. I just don't have the... _drive_, to look for another guy." God, I have to force that out of my system?

"Great choice of words," she laughs.

_Trust me, those were wonderful choices of words,_ I thought. "Whatever. Can we just give up on my love life?"

"For now," she smirks devilishly.

I groan. "Great. Now I'm never going to live this down as long as you're here."

She shakes her head no.

* * *

**AN: You know, it wouldn't kill you to leave a review once in a while (yeah you, all of you that actually read this.) It takes like... one minute to do it, unless you're a concritter (like me.) I get more reception from smaller fanbases, and that's sad. I'm not one of those authors who do the immature 'hold a story until I get X reviews' but shit, my confidence can run pretty thin after a while and I feel like doing it.**


	14. Mama Don't Cry

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

"Wake _up_, Sam!"

I shoot my eyes open in a panic, wondering why someone is waking me up so early in the morning. I see Melanie's worried expression, and immediately think something's wrong. However, I have 2 hours until school starts, so she's in the clear for anything right now.

"What happened?" I groggily ask her, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

She bites her lip anxiously. "Mom hasn't come home since she left yesterday."

What... oh no. She went to go see him, didn't she? "_Fuck!_" I mutter under my breath involuntarily. This has happened before, and she didn't come back for a week from that experience. I have to save her, but I have two hours to prep myself up for school, and Melanie doesn't know jack shit about our mother's relationship with another guy.

"What's wrong?" She asks, pulling me out of my reverie.

I sigh exasperatingly. "Mom's in trouble."

"What d'you mean she's in trouble?. She asks in a panic.

"She's in _trouble_," I repeat, and get out of bed. I pace the room and tell Melanie everything about her boyfriend, everything; the beatings, the disrespect, the Friday nights, everything. She widens her eyes, she snarls, she gasps at the explanations, since I fail to leave out any info. I also mention how he's hit me a couple of times, and how I've threatened him to get away before I call the cops. It's even a bonus that I almost have a basic idea where they are so I can make the call.

"I can't believe it," Melanie whispers.

"Well, believe it sis," I say. "It's destroying her confidence."

Melanie shakes her head. "She's going against _every_thing she's said about men who beat on women. She taught us better than that."

"I know," I agree. What should I do? Should I go over there and tell Melanie to call the cops if she doesn't hear anything from me in an hour, or should I just call the cops immediately, where they could pick both of them up and throw only one of them in jail? I don't want my mom going to jail for being a victim of abuse. But my mom has a criminal record; no one would believe that Pam Puckett is a damsel in distress after years of notorious petty crimes.

Then again, they didn't expect my twin sister, who's the poster child for being perfect, to grow cannabis plants in our backyard.

Either way, I can't go to school. There are more important things than hearing teachers bitch about their home lives and teenagers whine about their relationships.

However, Carly is going to be a worried wreck if I don't make it to school. I haven't thought of her since yesterday; I should text her soon just to check up on her. I know she's going crazy because her _possibly_ lesbian ham-eating best friend hasn't called or texted, or shown up for school.

Speaking of the devil, my phone starts to ring.

Both Melanie and me jump in the air, and look at the end table. My phone flashes her face, and her name and number. Without thinking, I snatch the phone from the end table and pick up the phone.

"What's up, cupcake?" I say rather quickly. Melanie gives me a gesture to hurry up the conversation.

"Are you okay," she asks softly. "You didn't show up for school yesterday."

"My sister held me hostage the whole day," I answer, which actually isn't a lie, at all. Melanie snarls and whispers obscenities in another language.

"Oh," she giggles. "Well, um, I think we're going to cancel our web show this week... Freddie has food poisoning and I can't find a replacement to handle the tech work."

Cancel the show? Why am I a _little_ relieved at this? "Oh okay then, um, I'm gonna miss school again today, there's a family issue that needs to be solved."

"Your mom?" She queries.

"Yeah," I reply with guilt. I have to miss school again, and Carly has to go to school with none of her best friends. She has to also face her ex-boyfriend, and some other undesirables. I don't want her to deal with this on her own, but right now, family is more important.

"Well, I should go then," she concludes, a hint of melancholia in her voice.

"Yeah," I say back. "Tell you what, this weekend, I'll come over, and we can spend the whole day with each other. That is, if my problem is resolved for the time being."

"I'd love - uh, I'd like - _shit_," she stammers. "That sounds cool, I guess."

My stomach feels full with butterflies. I don't even know why she's stammering, or cussing (which she _rarely_ does,) but all I know is that I simply, innocently, and basically asked my best friend out on a date, and she agrees to it.

I mentally pat myself on the back for effort. "Alright, I'll see you later."

"See you," she replies, and I hang up the phone. Melanie looks at me with a grin on her face, and I almost regret having a conversation with the love of my life, right I front of her.

"I knew it!" She points at me, cheering for joy and jumping in the air. "I knew it. I knew it."

"What?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

"Oh Sam," Melanie throws her arm around my shoulders. "You're my twin sister. I know almost everything about you. I had a feeling yesterday, but after seeing that glint in your eye, I knew you were looking elsewhere."

_Fuck_ me. Is my love for her _that_ fucking obvious? "But... how...what - is it really obvious?"

She nods proudly. "Pretty much."

"God," I slap myself on the forehead, literally. I can't believe my sister could figure that out. I wasn't exactly being coy just now, or maybe she noticed the glint in my eyes when I heard Carly confirm our—ahem, day out.

"Don't be ashamed," Melanie frowns.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes, and change the subject. "I'm going to the place where my mom probably is. If you don't hear from me in an hour, call the cops."

"No," she stops me with a grab of my hand. "Call them right now, and tell them where mom is. You don't need another strike."

I guess the latter will do, I thought as I dial the three-digit number. But before I press the talk button, I hear the door slam open.

I jump, and leave my room to check what the noise was coming from. My mom stands in the hallway, staring into nothingness. Her face has blood and bruises on it, as well as her hair being covered in blood. Her clothes are ripped, and her purse that she had yesterday is missing. Cuts, bruises, discolorations, blood; all decorated on her body. I cannot say I've missed that, because I haven't.

"Mom?" I call out. She looks up at me with saddened eyes. The signature glint in her eyes is gone. Her bright blue eyes are dull. The whites in her eyes are replaced with redness, and the rims of her eyes are just as red.

"I can't take it anymore," she whispers.

I run towards her and hug her tightly. I don't care if I'm getting blood on me; I just want her close. She went to him again, and while I'm mad at her for doing so, I just want her to know that I'm still there for her. She's my mom, and she may have been horrible to me before, but I can't sit there and let her get attacked to a man who doesn't love her at all.

"Where is he now?" I ask.

She shrugs in a reply. I know she knows where he is (he moves a lot), but she's telling me otherwise. It's something that would've angered me in the past, but right now, I just want to be right here, and to hold her close to me. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shakes her head no. "I'm fine, I just want a shower."

I let go of her and gesture her upstairs, although my conscience is making me call the police and report this to them. I can't sit here and let my mom live her life like this, but the only way she opens up to me is if I promise her that it's confidential (for now); that I'm not strapped in wires and she trusts me. She struggles to go up the stairs, and at that moment, I know she was lying about being hurt.

"You're hurt," I whisper. "You can barely walk up the stairs."

"I'm fine," she growls, and still tries to stumble up the stairs. I sigh and practically carry her up the stairs, wondering how she got up the front stairs. I ignore the thought, even though I'm tired if the futile attempts of my mother lying and feigning a non-injury. She is hurt; it's etched all over her face. However, she's so stubborn it puts _me_ to shame.

"Come on mom, you can barely walk up these stairs," I say, helping her up the stairs.  
She glares at me, the glare tearing every inch of me. She's mad, she doesn't want help. I know she doesn't need help. That would mean she's getting old. She is only shy of her forties, and still bores a youth inside of her. It will never die, as long as she keeps living.

"Mom," I groan.

She gives up, and takes each and every step carefully. I watch her, help her, make sure she doesn't fall, because god forbid, something is dislocated and I can make it worse.

We're at the top now, and I take my hand in hers, pulling her to the bathroom. I lock the door behind me, and look at her closely. She's not mad; she's broken. Her shattered soul scatters all over the floor as soon as she receives that first blow. It shatters more when he puts his hands on me. It builds up when we don't see him for a week. Now it's destroyed again, and each and every tear I see fall from her eyes down to the floor, is her soul, dripping from the main person.

"Take off your clothes and I'll get the shower running." I order her and slowly saunter over to the shower cubicle, turning on the water. I make it hot, as hot as she can stand it. I feel her presence as she peels off the bloody, sweat-matted, dirty clothes on the floor. I hear the soft clink of the belt, and the draping sound of clothes hitting the floor.

"Thanks, sweetie."

I feel her hand on my shoulder, and I shiver.

"Welcome, mom," I whisper, and hold back the tears. She removes her hand, and opens the shower door. She steps in like a rush of tanned skin running from one point to another, and the shower door closes with a slam.

* * *

**AN: for those who are still interested in reading this bipolar of a story (lol), next chapter should draw to a climax and connect to the first chapter. And yes, the moment you've been waiting for - the Cam action - happens next chapter. You just have to wait until next week to find out. Oh and sorry about the lateness - I've been catching up on shows and it's Día de Mi Madre (I'll love you so much if you get the reference!) also known as my mom's birthday so a lot of shit today. And if you don't read my other stories, my semester just started. Although this story has been planned ahead, don't be discouraged when the chapters are late in the day or the week.**


	15. Unrequited

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

Tomorrow is Saturday, and Freddie's still bed-ridden, because his mom won't let him leave the apartment. Tomorrow, I get to go out with Carly and enjoy a best friend's day out. We haven't been able to do that in a long time, and even though I love her, that doesn't mean I can't physically hang out with her. But there's a doubt; a doubt that I feel like I'm going to do something stupid. I don't know what, but my gut feeling always has a way of telling me things I should avoid.

I walk over to Bushwell Plaza, where the front of the apartment building is being fixed, still. I ignore the construction workers (and the doorman) and go all the way to the eighth floor. I have some soup in a paper bag, since I know Frednerd is still a little sick, so I thought some soup would help (or not.) Oh well, he'll like it.

I knock on the front door, awaiting for someone, _anyone_, even Crazy, to open the door. I don't feel like picking locks today. And if I do, I would have to hear an annoying sound elicit; apparently it's a new burglar system Crazy installed.

Freddie opens the door, and I'm observing a very sweaty, flushed, tired technical producer, with his hair in complete disarray. If I would have known better, he looks like he just enjoyed a good—ahem, the good ol' Han _Solo_.

"'Sup nerd?" I greet. "I have hot soup."

He sidesteps, letting me in the apartment. There are only a few times where I've been in Freddie's apartment: confronting him when he quitted the web show for his two-faced girlfriend, sneaking inside so I would go to his hangout space (the fire escape, of course), and dinner with his mom when we were dating. Also a few times for some innocent and _not_-so-innocent 'Seddie' alone time.

Now, I'm here, giving him soup, although I don't think it's going to help at all.

"Thanks for the soup," he says.

I nod, finding the area to be a little awkward. Even though we're close, we haven't done a lot of things without Carly. And I know we aren't dating anymore, so I thought things would be better, since it _was_ mutual. I sit on the island chair, while he tries to find a spoon to eat the soup.

"I hear that you and Carly are going to have a day out tomorrow."

He smiles cockily, while I scowl at him, a little surprised. "Where did you hear that from?"

"Carly told me," he answers.

_She told him?_ "Yeah, actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Therapist Freddie Benson at your service," he jokes.

I smile at the futile attempt at a joke, but I know that he's serious. So am I; I'm still scared, even though it's just two girls hanging out. Yeah, a girl and another girl who's in love with said girl.

"I just…

I don't know. I know it isn't a date, but what if I do something stupid?"

Freddie frowns at the statement. "What do you mean by, 'doing something stupid'?"

"I don't know, touching her inappropriately, maybe?" I point out, but I refrain from saying something. I feel like he would say something stupid either way.

"Well, now that you say that, holding hands is out of the question," he says sarcastically, with a smile.

"You suck Benson," I frown. "I came here for quality advice and all I get is bull_shit_—"

"Oh come on Sam, it was just a harmless, dry joke," he frowns, making the situation worse. "But seriously, what do you mean?"

"I'm scared," I confess. "I feel like I'll do something stupid, and I'll lose her forever. I don't want to lose her, at all. She's my best friend, she's _everything_ to me. She's the love of my life. If I lose her now, I don't think I'll live from it. My sister saw it, you see it, I'm pretty sure Spencer isn't that stupid to see it… Fuck, she's making me into a sappy little girl with feelings. I - I know this is supposed to be innocent, but this feeling is far from normal."

A short, comfortable silence follows that sentence, and it makes me wonder if he just ran out of words here. I mean, I wasn't _that_ deep; was I?

"You really _do_ love her, do you?" He asks.

I nod shamefully, casting my head down and looking at my shoes. I'm shouldn't feel ashamed; I appreciate this side of me, ever since I realise that these feelings will never go away. But at the same time, she may not feel the same way. I don't notice that he's close to me until he grabs my chin and moves my head up, making me look at his tiresome eyes. "Don't be ashamed."

"Thanks sis," I roll my eyes. Melanie told me the same thing a few days ago when she figured my feelings out.

"Seriously," he frowns. "You shouldn't feel ashamed about this. I'm pretty sure she likes you back, because she would've caught that you asked her out on a date, and say no if she didn't like you." He lets go of my face, but he still stands closely in front of me.

"I know," I say.

"Just be yourself," he advises.

"Yes, because that's the best thing I should do," I say sarcastically.

We both frown. "Oh my god, so pessimistic," he whispers. I know I'm being pessimistic, but that's what I've been doing all the time.

"Well, Benson, I wouldn't be so pessimistic if you weren't giving me the same advice, telling me how to hang out with a girl I have a crush on, while I'm a girl!" I complain. I'm tired of the same thing everyday. Two people have said to be myself when I told them about my love for Carly; while I appreciate the help, I need something more solid.

"Well sorry for being a guy, who's only trying to help his pessimistic best friend," he retorts immediately. "You don't need advice. You're confident. You're just plagued by insecurity. Don't think about it, just go with the flow. Have fun, and if you still feel insecure, then think about something else. Like… ham."

Now, that's better. "That's a change."

"Just follow my advice, and you will feel better by the end of the day."

-x-

Melanie's leaving this afternoon.

She picks out clothes for my day with Carly today, and while I appreciate the help, I get annoyed by Melanie's choice of clothing. I own some girly clothes, from my days as being 'Pete's _daffodil_', and she's just picking those out for me. I thought I boxed those clothes somewhere deep inside my closet. I should have burned them a long time ago.

"I'm not wearing that," I protest when I see the orange-colored dress.

Melanie frowns. "Come on, Sam. This is cute."

"I'm wearing my regular clothes," I protest again. "I should have burned those clothes after I dumped Pete."

Melanie gives up after a few attempts. "Fine, at least, don't wear that ghastly black jacket. It makes you look too _obvious_."

"I love that jacket!" I exclaim. It's my favourite jacket, given to me by her, of course. "Carly gave me that jacket."

"Of course," Melanie rolls her eyes. "Okay, your wardrobe issues are cleared up—"

"Mel," I stop her. "This isn't exactly a date, you know."

"I know." She gives me an understanding smile, "But, if you want the girl, you have to work for her. And that means, actually looking the part."

"I look the part, I feel the part, I _am_ the part," I mock. "Trust me, I'll be fine."

"Okay," she says. "Don't call me when your heart is broken."

I snarl at her. "Fuck you."

"That's Carly's job," Melanie jokes, and before she knows it, I throw a pillow at her direction.

-x-

"What do you want to do today?" I ask Carly, while we leave the apartment building. She looks different today; her aura just appears to be more positive. She's smiling more often, well, now she is, since we haven't exactly hang out in a while. She doesn't want to stay in the apartment when Spencer's still working on his feather sculpture.

"I don't know," Carly replies.

I think slowly; we're outside, and it's a great day might I add. Melanie warns that it's going to rain, so she says that we shouldn't stay outside for long.

"Oh, I heard that the new Twilight movie is out," I say. I know that Carly adores Twilight; she read every book and saw every movie except for the last one. It came out the day before, and as much as I dislike the movie, I will sacrifice my hate for the movie to see it with her.

"You hate that movie."

I stare at her, and she gives me a worried look. "It's no big, cupcake. If you want to see it, then I'll take you."

"Are you sure?"

I nod quickly. I'm serious, I don't mind watching it for her. I know she wants to see it, so I'm going with her. It's no fun going by yourself. Trust me, I know. "I'll even pay for everything." Actually, my sister will pay for everything, she gave me some when I didn't even ask for it.

"Thanks Sam," she blushes and smiles, it's the most adorable face I've ever seen on her face. It's a face of happiness and gracefulness. I know I'm succeeding today.

We walk all of the way to the theatre, which barely has groups of people; just couples looking for a movie to make out in the duration of the movie. I think I'm the only one here who isn't here just to make out. Well, unless I get lucky (which is unlikely.) I doubt she would ever make the moves on me that fast.

_But what if she does?_

Hah, there goes my mind again. No, seriously; what would that mean? It would obviously mean that she loves me, but maybe she's confused, and she just wants to experiment. However, I will feel like shit if she just kissed me right then and there and just say it was just an experiment. I want her to kiss me if she likes me, not for her experiment or something. It just feels more sincere.

"Two tickets to the Breaking Dawn part two movie."

I give the ticket guy some money, and I grab the two tickets from him. He looks at me with a smirk; it's like I'm here with my girlfriend and we're just here to get away from our everyday lives and make out in the duration of the movie, and go home with an euphoric high, possibly wet underwear, and swollen lips. (I wish.)

No, my _friend_ wants to see this.

"Want some snacks?" I ask her. She shakes her head no, but I go to the concession stand anyway. She knows she wants something, but since I'm paying for everything, she feels bad. I get a small popcorn and a large drink with two straws, since the large popcorn is a waste, and the small drink is fit for a kiddie meal, literally.

We enter the theatre, and it's empty… literally. We're the only people in here, and the movie starts in a minute.

"Where do you want to sit?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Wherever is fine."

I settle for the back, in the far corner near the exit, even though I know we're the only ones in here. The previews start to show, and I start to snack on the small popcorn. The snack is stale, and barely drenched in butter. It tastes like it's been outside for weeks. I gag a little and set the popcorn on the floor.

"This is why I didn't want anything from the concession stand," Carly complains.

I laugh at her rant; it is my fault that I went to get this disgusting attempt of popcorn. Well, at least the drink isn't so bad, I thought as I take a sip of the cold beverage, with no ice.

"Well, the drink isn't bad," I say, handing her the large cup. She takes it and sips from my straw, not even asking me for the extra straw. "You're right, it isn't bad," she grimaces and hands it back to me.

I instantly feel like jelly.

-x-

After the movie, I feel like throwing myself under the bed. The movie makes no sense watching it, and I don't understand it at all. How does a common girl turn into a vampire, and how does she not die when she has a half vampire baby? How is this supposed to be romantic? I'm not a romantic, but I know damn well that biting the neck so hard where you're drawing blood, for some, isn't _very_ erotic. And what's the deal with Jacob Black?

"That was a horrible movie," I confess to Carly, who has disappointment written all over her face.

"It actually was," she admits. "It didn't follow the book at all."

"Well, let's get you home," I yawn, getting up from the comfortable chair.

She smiles at me, and takes my hand in hers.

I blink in confusion. "Uh..."

"I don't know," she shrugs, and walks out of the theatre, still grabbing my hand. We walk all the way out of the place, hand in hand, while we get some glances and stares. I start to grow uncomfortable and self-conscious; any of these people could be people from school. Although I feel _some_ anticipation.

It's raining when we step outside, and I lack an umbrella.

"Shit," I shiver, when the rush of cold air hits my face. I have a hoodie, but Carly has an umbrella. She pulls it out, and lets go of my hand. She opens it and raises it over the both of our heads. She gets close—dangerously close—to me, causing me to blush. She blushes harder, but that could just be the cold. We're standing right in front of the street, under a tiny umbrella, huddling each other for warmth. We can't move; we're frozen in place. Well, at least I am.

Before I try to say something, she reaches for my hand again, pulling me closer.  
Is she doing what I think she's—

Oh, _fuck_.

She kisses me, before the thought passes through. I'm at a caustic shock; unable to move, wondering why she's doing this, but why should I care? This is what I want, right? _Right_?

I kiss back with a moan, and use my free hand to pull her closer to me. She's soft, rhythmic, electric - she feels wonderful, and she isn't even doing much. Her lips move within mine, but she's careful; cautious that there are people around, insecure that she's inexperienced in deeper kissing, surprised that I reciprocate instead of pulling away.  
Then Carly pulls back, a catatonic look etched all over her face.

"Uh," she stutters. "I'm sorry."

Here it comes; the idiotic, _dick_ move. "Don't be," I whisper. "I wanted this for a long time." I make an attempt to grab her hand, but she swats my hand away.

"No, I really am sorry," she denies. "I mean, _fuck_, why did I do that? Here, with you?"

I blink in confusion. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"This... This whole thing!" She yells. "Sam, this... It's not going to work. This is impossible; you're my best friend, and that's all what we should be."

I blink again, and then scowl, obviously taken aback. "You kissed me first."

"It doesn't matter who kissed who," she counters. "I just... I want us to be friends. That's it. I'm sorry."

"So, you lead me on…?" I growl in blind anger, and in sadness, but I don't want her to see my sadness. No, not right now.

Carly's expression of hurt turns to surprise. "Sam, I... I didn't know you—"

"Yeah right. It doesn't matter anymore," I rebuff, and start to walk away from her. I ignore her cries, her voice, her protests. She broke my heart, and now she realizes it. I let the rain hit the top of my head, uncaring that I may get sick from being caught in the rain. It's a sick I'm willing to take.

* * *

**AN: I wrote this chapter in November so yeah, that's why Breaking Dawn II is mentioned (and I'm too lazy to change the movie, plus the 2013 movies aren't really derived from books.) One of my longest chapters yet! And yes we are at the climax-present day storyline. Also, I haven't had time to thank you guys personally for the reviews since I've been a little distraught over the lack of reviews, but seriously, it means a lot that you all are reading and reviewing, even though the show's over.**

**oh - and if you see some words that aren't American English, it's because my iPad was formatted in English (UK) for some reason**


	16. Release

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

**Heads-up: I advise you _not_ to skip this chapter, even though there's a bit of illicit drug use.**

* * *

_Present day_

I knew something stupid was going to happen. I knew it. God, I hate my gut feelings sometimes. It never tells me good things.

I give up on homework; I don't understand why I pull out the books from my bag and start to do it. I mean, I never do homework on a Saturday.

I hate _everything_ right now.

And the worst part of it is, while I was gone, he was here. I can smell his presence around the house. There's blood everywhere, glass everywhere; it's like I just entered a crime scene investigation.

My phone rings for the umpteenth time today, and it's Carly. I don't want to talk to her right now. I don't think I want to talk to her, ever. She kisses me right in the middle of the street, and tells me that she doesn't want anything more than friendship. Then where the hell did the kiss come from? I'm being really unfair, but I'm still angry.

My sister left hours ago, so I can't talk to her right now. Freddie's still in bed, probably sleeping through the storm. It's too wet to go to the warehouse, and there's no one there, I assume. There's nothing to do. I'm all alone here, with nothing to do.

"Sam," I hear my name in the silence. I jump instantly and turn around in reflex.

"Mom?" I yell. "Where are you?"

"In my room," she cries.

I get up from my chair and rush to my mom's room. The whole room is trashed completely, like a tornado enters the room before I came home from my disappointing day. She looks at me with saddened eyes, fresh cuts and fresh bruises everywhere on her body.

"He was here again, wasn't he?" I growl.

My fists clench when she nods. I want to find him, and kill him, for everything he's done to my mom so far in more than a month. He's gone too far a long time ago, but since my mom fails to tell me where he is right now, I can't exactly report him. I wish she can just tell me where he is so I can do something. I'm tired of this tearing everyone apart.

"Where is he?" I ask.

"I honestly don't know," she replies earnestly.

I take a deep breath in, and let it out. Relax, Sam. _Relax. _"Where were you two yesterday? And answer me mom; don't tell me you don't know."

"We were in his house," she answers. "Before that, he took me out, but we ended up dining and dashing. He took me to his house, and I couldn't remember anything after the first shove against his glass door."

I take in another deep breath. Just keep relaxing; attacking anyone who doesn't deserve it is not worth it. "Where is his house?"

"Two minutes from your school," she answers truthfully.

I nod. I finally know where he is. Well, not _exactly_. "Do you know anything about the house?"

"It's gray," she describes. "Gray house… weeds in the front, no front steps, um… it's two homes down from a corner store that closed down a year ago."

I have to remember this: gray house, two homes down from a demolished corner store... Two minutes from my school... Wait. I remember that store. I was just by it today.

"Is there a movie theatre over there?" I ask.

She nods. So, I know exactly where he lives. "Sam… please—"

"No," I stop her. "I'm not going to sit here any longer and let him attack you. You need to turn him in. I'm not going to lose my mother like this. I lost someone already, I can't lose you either."

She realizes how much this affects me. She's so busy about herself that she doesn't care about how I felt. That's selfish, but that's my mother. I still love her and I want her to stay alive. Until, at least, I'm old enough to own a home. She gets up and pulls me closer to her, and I don't realise that I'm wetting her shirt with my tears until I let a strangled sob escape my throat.

-x-

Finally, _some_ _release_. I sit on the flat sofa with a group of kids, while we share a joint in a circle. I've been waiting on this since yesterday, since I was dumped on by one Carly Shay. But that's not in my concern right now; it's time to forget everything, and be young and carefree. Even if this lasts for a few hours.

"I'm bored," some kid by the name of Tom announces. He goes to our school, as well as Wendy, who manages to be here, and apparently Missy, who Wendy invites for some fun. Although I hate the chick, she warms up quickly in our small group of misfits. Jeremy's also there, supplying us with the stuff, and the necessities when we start to get hungry. I know I'm starting to get a little hungry.

"Cotton mouth," Wendy mumbles to me.

I sigh out the last puff of smoke into the air. "Get your own shit."

"_Rude_," she snarls, and grabs my bottle of water. She downs it in a quick second before I protest.

"So Sam," Missy smirks at me. "I saw you and Carly yesterday at the movies. What's up with that?"

Why does she have to bring this up, especially in a group of idiots higher than planes? Fuck, I hope people forget about conversations that happen while they're high. "She wanted to see the stupid Twilight movie," I shrug.

She blinks. "She was holding your hand."

Everyone gasps, and some chorus a very childish 'oooh' before I try to reply. "We… um - well you see, the situation was… you've never seen two girls holding hands together in a platonic way?"

"Well yeah," Missy shrugs. "However, I know Carly enough to know that she doesn't exactly hold hands in public… well in the way you two were."

"Can we _not_ talk about this?" I ask, but everyone shows a look of disagreement. "Why is everyone so interested in my life?"

"We're not interested," Missy points out with a shrug. "It's just that… we have nothing to talk about."

"Well I have a topic," Wendy announces. "Actually, a game. Never have I ever."

Jeremy smirks. "We don't have any alcohol."

"Are you trying to get us _hospitalized_ or something?" Wendy snarls. "We don't need alcohol."

"Can you explain this game?" Tom asks.

"Simple." Wendy gets up from the couch. "You each have to say something you've never did. If you've done it, then you take a piece of clothing or jewelry off." Oh great, _strip_ never have I ever. Well, it's better than alcohol. We will _definitely_ get sick with the mixture of weed and the depressant. "Good enough for you, Thomas?" She snaps.

Tom nods.

"Great, because you're first," she smirks, and sits back on the couch.

"Alright… never have I ever played this game," he says lamely. I remove my watch, and everyone else removes a different item of clothing. I drop the watch on the table in front of me, just like everyone else does.

"Never have I ever kissed a girl," Missy says. I watch, while all of the guys remove another piece of clothing. Eh, _what the hell._ I shrug and take my ponytail holder out of my hair, and place it on the table. Everyone eyes me suspiciously as I recline on the sofa.

"What? Haven't you _ever_ been curious?" I ask. I am referring to yesterday, but no one needs to know that. Everyone ignores me, but Missy keeps eyeing me suspiciously.

"Never have I ever done E," Jeremy says.

Only Jonah and Pete remove their sneakers, and I sit there, smirking.

"My turn?" I say. Everyone nods. "Okay… never have I ever _enjoyed_ a Twilight movie."  
Everyone laughs ridiculously, besides Missy, who removes her sweater with everyone else removing an article of jewelry.

"Wow, you can't get any more weirder," I laugh at Missy, who shrugs.

"Never have I ever had a crush on a best friend," Wendy says, nudging me on the side. I decide that my slipper is the best thing to remove. I take it off, and put it on the table.

"Freddie _is_ my best friend," I smirk, winking at Wendy. She shakes her head amusedly.

"Okay…" Jonah sighs. "Never have I ever enjoyed school."

"Pathetic," I laugh, removing my other slipper. Hey, I once enjoyed school, that one time when me, Carly and Freddie tried to make Ms, Briggs and Mr. Howard fired from their principal jobs and put Franklin back. Some others remove a piece of clothing, and Wendy removes her top, revealing a lacy bra underneath. I try not to stare at her, and so does the guys. Wendy is a pretty girl, with curves that makes any guy hard and every girl envious, with the exception of me. I'm finding myself getting wet at the sight of seeing her completely topless.

"Never have I ever been accused of being gay," Wesley says.

Well, there is that one time… I remove my sweater and place it on the table, as well as Jonah and Pete. I accuse them of being gay everyday, so it counts.

"Never have I ever had sex _over_ the influence," Pete laughs.

I laugh as well, remembering his drug-induced shag with Jonah. I remove my shirt, revealing my undershirt, and place it on the table. Hey, Freddie and I _never_ have been innocent. Too bad it was only once before we broke up… well, for him.

"With who?" Jonah asks me. "We never got busy under the sheets."

"Us neither," Pete chides in.

"Freddie Benson," I reply bluntly. "It doesn't matter, you two would have never _lasted_ with me."

They both snarl, while the whole room laughs at them.

"Never have I ever been in a _sexless_ relationship," Tom says.

I remove my undershirt with some hesitance. I'm almost topless, but I'm not drawing the line until my sweatpants is removed. Wendy is completely topless next to me, and I'm completely staring at her chest; her breasts are perky and pink, and she has a small scar on her stomach. She's gorgeous anyway… and I'm acting like a pervert right about now.

"Never have I ever caught myself staring at someone's boobs," Missy says lamely, smirking devilishly at me.

_Fuck_. I remove my sweatpants, leaving me half naked and a bit self-conscious. Jeremy is down to his last sock and boxers, as well as Jonah and Pete. Tom has the most clothes on, with a shirt and boxers on.

Jeremy sighs. "Never have I ever disliked an episode of iCarly."

Hah, I thought, but Missy removes her bra, showing her chest. She has way bigger breasts than Wendy, but I hate her. It doesn't stop me from glancing and feeling extremely uncomfortable down there. Am I really _getting off_ from looking at girls' chests? Even the ones I hate?

"There was that one episode without you in it…" Missy starts, but I clear my throat for her to shut up. I get it. It was the episode that she cohosted after getting me sick on spoiled chocolate.

"Time to up the ante," I whisper. "Never have I ever stared at Missy's chest for a prolonged amount of time."

Everyone gasps, but I shrug, feeling a little bored at the innocent attempts at things they've never done. "Really, Sam?" Jonah asks.

"What," I shrug. "Missy's chest is right in front of my face. And this game was getting _boring_."

Everyone bursts out in laughter, including me, but Missy scowls in disgust. "Fuck you, Sam."

"No, that's fine," I shrug.

"Okay," Wendy laughs. "Never have I ever had sex in public."

Both Pete and Jonah remove their socks, while Tom removes his shirt.

"Never have I ever been caught having sex, or masturbating even, by their parents or siblings," Jonah says confidently.

"Fuck," I hear Jeremy whisper, when he removes his boxers, and Wendy removes her underwear. I remove my bra. My mom caught me once while I had a vibrator. Keyword, _had_. She took it away from me after that and I haven't seen it since. Not that I care; she probably threw it away. "I'm out," Wendy announces.

Wesley laughs. "One more. Never have I ever _dated_ a lesbian."

Jeremy cusses again under his breath, while Tom removes his boxers. Both Jonah and Pete remove their boxers, and I glare at them.

"Who's the stupid lesbian that dated you two?" I ask them, _almost_ fearing their answer.

"You," they say in unison.

"Woah you faggots," I growl. "I never announced that I was a lesbian. I just said I enjoy looking at girls' breasts."

"And, you've said you kissed a girl," Missy points out.

"And come on Sam," Jeremy rolls his eyes. "_Freddie_? You know you weren't talking about him when Wendy said she never had a crush on her best friend."

"Yes I was," I lie. I will not give them the satisfaction of them knowing about that part of my life. Plus, how does me having a crush on her, kissing her, and looking at girls' breasts make me a lesbian? Oh wait; it _does_. Ugh, they're right. I _am_ a fucking lesbian. "Whatever. My life is none of your business anyway."

"Just come out of the closet already," Jonah groans. "Everyone knows, so admit it."

"Really, I'm pretty sure some others don't know that," I retort, with a sarcastic tone. "Why would it matter to you if I was gay? That means we will never have a second chance. Not that I would want that."

"Gross," Jonah flares his nostrils in disgust.

"There you go, she's gay," Missy laughs, and claps her hands once.

"I'm sorry, ugly face, did anyone ask you to _contribute_ to the conversation?" I ask.

Wendy frowns and lightly smacks me on my bare shoulder. "Can you stop being mean to her?"

"Sorry, not in my nature!" I answer. "Anyway, you people give me a rash, I'm going home." I snarl and start to find my clothes in the pile of clothes on the table. I grab my clothes and start to put them on hastily, while everyone else watches me.

"Do we really give you—"

"No, just the gay couple over there," I point to Jonah and Pete, whose scowls get deeper. While I had my fun today, I'm seriously getting riled up just looking at Missy's boobs in front of my face like that. Plus, I just need some time for myself.

"I have better things to do anyway," I excuse myself, leaving the warehouse in a hurry.

I should look for some new friends, I thought as I run towards my house and climb up the big tree to my room, lying down on the bed on my back. I feel fresh, new, held back tears threatening to fall, and I let them. I don't even know why I'm crying, though; I basically just admitted to myself, and towards my idiot high friends, that I'm a lesbian. I've known for some time, but the word creeps me out so I don't say it. Maybe I'm still hurt over Carly's rejection; my high dissipates by the minute and I start to feel the heartache I felt earlier in the day.

I still feel the lingering, hot wetness between my legs as I sob quietly into the darkness.

* * *

**AN: Happy Valentine's Day/Single Awareness Day/February 14th! If you're on fanfiction, then you are forever alone like me! (It sounded better in my head.) Anyway, you guys are awesome - all of you. Just. Ugh. I love you all and I send you virtual valentine's chocolate for each and every review I received for the last chapter. And I wasn't distraught over a lack of reviews... wrong use of words, sorry. I just didn't like it and no one did it for a while. **


	17. Gray House

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to.**_

* * *

I open my locker, and retrieve my books from it. I'm still feeling the heartache from Saturday, plus I'm basically angry that my mom's doing absolutely _nothing_ over the situation about her abusive, sociopathic _excuse_ of a boyfriend. So I'm hoping no one comes up to me and try to talk to me, because I'm not having it with anyone. Everyone seems to notice my anger because they run away from me after getting a glimpse of my face. That's better.

"Sam," I hear someone next to me.

"I don't want to talk," I growl without looking at their face. Seriously, I thought I make it clear to everyone in this school.

"Too bad, because I want to."

I retaliate by clenching my fists, slamming my locker, and turning around in a blind rage. "I told you—"

I stop myself, noticing Carly backing up at my sudden anger. She looks afraid, and I feel bad, knowing I make her scared by my anger issue. I unclench my fists and exhale a sigh.

"What do you want?" I ask rather harshly. She may be my best friend, and the love of my life, but nothing can change the hurt I still feel right now.

She looks unfazed by the harsh tone in my voice; she stays still, like I never even ask her. I also notice that she looks like she's been crying all weekend. Her hair is in disarray, and her cheeks are flushed in a really, deep red that makes me concerned. Her clothes are not matching; while that doesn't matter to some people, it matters to me because she always matches. She matches on her bad days, and her good days. I don't know how much I have an effect on her.

"I want you to talk to me." Carly says this in a melancholic voice; the type of voice that would usually make me give in to her. However, I will not fall for this. I have to be strong for myself.

"Great, so I'm not going to talk to you," I conclude, and start to walk away from her. She calls after me, and then grabs the both of my hands. I snatch my hands away from her clutch, but she one-ups me by grabbing me by the waist.

"Stop ignoring me," she cries.

"Really?" I turn around, and give her my meanest, but half-hearted, scowl. "Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't ignore you."

She pauses, casts her head down, and bites her lips nervously. The warning bell starts to sound, and some kids are rushing to class. While I don't particularly enjoy Ms. Briggs' annoying voice and her unintimidating scowl, I would rather be there right now, pretending to listen to her, than to watch Carly nervously come up with a _futile_ attempt of an answer as to why I should stop ignoring her. I'm not doing this on purpose; I want to talk to her. But now, I need some space to clear my head.

The late bell rings, and I'm officially late to class (like _that_ bothers me.) The hallways are clear of all people, except for me, and my best friend in front of me. She's still silent... it's like she wants the halls to be quiet to say what she wants to say, but why would she wait until the late bell to tell me what she wants to say? We could've found a quiet place to talk. Then again, I'm not talking to her, so I shouldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry," she starts. "I should've never said that to you. I was scared... I mean, I never did that to any girl, ever."

"Oh, and I'm experienced in this?" I ask sarcastically.

She sighs exasperatingly. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what _do_ you mean?" I ask her, refraining from calling her by her nickname I gave her since we've been friends.

"You know I love you," she says seriously. "You're my best friend, and I care about you a lot—"

"If this is about you telling me that you don't reciprocate the feelings I have for you, then I don't want to hear it because I heard it before," I interrupt harshly. She says nothing, with her head still cast down, tears threatening to fall. I feel bad, but I shouldn't sit here and let her repeat what she said to me on Saturday.

"Sorry, _not_ a good answer," I scowl, and turn on my heel, walking dutifully to class.

-x-

I sit by myself during the lunch hour, while I watch the kids rush in and take in the little break the school offers us after a few hours of class. I don't feel like being here; so many students I dislike are here, and my only friends are junkies, and are hanging out in the parking lot. My best friends however, I'm not in the mood to associate with.

"Hi," I hear a male voice greet me by the other side of me.

I turn my head, and watch as Benson sits in the available seat across from me. "What do you want, Benson?"

He blinks, ignoring my harsh tone. "I heard what happened."

"_Great_," I snarl. "Of course Carly would tell _you_, of all people, what happened between us."

"I just think this whole situation is unnecessary." He stares at me, with a concerned look. He's right, as usual, but I'm not going to say that. I want to resolve this, but I still feel like shit.

"Well, that sucks for you Frednerd," I say, without meaning any of it. "This isn't your problem, it's mine. You shouldn't be bothered with this."

"But I am," the nerd retorts. "I'm not going to watch the both of you stop being friends because the both of you can't admit how you two feel for each other."

The comment almost gets me angry enough to flip him over to the table and break every bone in his body. As I slam my hands on the table in fury, some of the students avert their gazes towards us. "Oh well, Benson. I've already admit how I felt. She hasn't. As a matter of fact, I think she pities me. She sees that I'm just lonely; a lonely lesbian girl with a butter sock and a three-legged cat to look forward to every day. And you know what, that's fine too. I _don't_ really care anymore. So you can still keep saying how much she loves me; but the more you say it, the more I feel the need to say that statement is complete _bullshit_. If she loved me, she should've never said that we should still be friends after she frenched me right in front of the fucking movie theatre."

I get up from the chair, and leave the cafeteria, with the entire student body staring at me. Benson gets up and starts to follow me towards the hallway.

"Sam!" He yells.

"Fuck off Benson," I flip him off, exiting through the school doors quickly. There goes my fucking day; in the trash, and the day isn't finished yet. Why did I even _go_ to school? There's more serious things right now than worrying about my failed love life and how, the whole school now knows that I'm a lesbian.

I don't even know where I'm going. All I know is that it's almost a familiar route. It's almost familial to the route where my mom mentions on Saturday. I don't know why I'm walking down that route, but anywhere is better than school. I walk past the same standing place where I had my first kiss with a girl, that girl being Carly. It's her first, too. It's the best kiss I ever experience in my life, even better than the many times I kissed Freddie or any of my stupid ex-boyfriends, and we've only kissed once. I wish I can do it again, but I know that's not going to happen. She doesn't return my feelings, so why should I bother with her? She only kissed me out of pity; she was caught in the moment. But, I meant it. I love her, and even though she doesn't like me, I will always love her. I guess being forever alone isn't an option anymore.

I stand in front of a gray house, and think of the conversation I had with my mom.

_It's a gray house, with weeds in the front._

It's gray, and there are weeds in front of it. But I also remember my mom mentioning a demolished corner store two homes down. I look to my left, and there's a corner store, that looks like it hasn't opened in years.

Wait a minute—this is it.

I pull out my phone and dial some numbers quickly. I put the phone to my ear, listening to the soft dial tone that follows it.

I hear a dispatcher come on, with a professional voice.

"Yes, I'm calling to report a criminal..."

-x-

I hear the sirens nearing the street, and I see the man leave his gray home, with a baseball bat in his hand. It _scares_ me that I know who he's going to use it on, and the fact that there's blood on it.

"What are you doing here?" He snarls.

I shrug; the police officers see him and walk towards him. Both of them are men, but one of them is light skinned, while the other is darker. They both look intimidating, but practically growing up in a juvenile detention facility, I'm completely unfazed by their facial expressions.

"Hello there," the darker police officer greets to the man.

He turns around, and changes his demeanor. His facial expressions turn from a scowl to a grin, and he tries to relax his face, and hide his murder weapon.

"Hello officers," he says calmly.

"We're looking for an escaped criminal, an unidentified young woman reported that the person lives in that gray home," the officer explains. "Do you know where he lives?"

The man shakes his head no. "I don't believe so."

"Very well then." The officer grimaces and nods once, but as soon as he tries to sidestep the man, the lighter officer next to him whispers in his ear. The darker officer widens his eyes and traces his eyes to the baseball bat. "What's that in your hand?"

Bingo.

"Um..."

"His murder weapon," I mumble.

The man whips his head to me, and glares. I will not cover for this sociopath, not once, not ever. He's not getting scot-free, not as long as he doesn't use that bat on my mother, or me. I called the police for a reason.

"Please, come with us," the officer warns the man, and I smirk wildly.

The man glares at me, and stays in place. The darker officer looks back, and repeats, "Sir, you need to come with us."

The man raises the baseball hat in the air, ready to strike.

"Go ahead," I threaten. "Hit me like the little bitch you are."

As soon as he moves his arms to strike me, the police officers pull his arms to prevent him from doing so. The man tries to resist, but the officers are (surprisingly,) stronger. They are able to handcuff the man and confiscate the bloody baseball bat, and they drag him to the police cruiser.

I haven't been so happy to see law enforcement actually do their job right, until now.

* * *

**AN: What is up with me producing short chapters? Well, I should tell you all that I'm currently employed so it may or may not change my chapter posting schedule. If not, I'll still be happy to post on Thursday nights. **

**anyway, all of you are awesome, especially my reviewers, if I still have them.**


	18. Kiss

**An important AN explaining why this chapter is early is below.**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the comedy children's show iCarly, and I don't intend to._**

* * *

I walk back home, although I should go back to school. I'm too distressed and angry to go back to that school. Everyone will talk shit, and I have to face the love of my life, and Benson staring at me up and down. I don't need that.

I drop my things in my room and leave again towards the warehouse. It's empty, I hope, since everyone is either at school or just plainly not here. I need to clear my head, and just be somewhere other than my house, or school.

I walk in the house, and just my luck, it's empty. It's a little dark, since the lights are off. I turn them on and sit on the flat sofa.

Why do I have to feel like this in the first place? I didn't ask to be in love with my best friend. I surely didn't ask to have lesbian thoughts. And I know that I didn't ask to be humiliated by every person I know. But fate has it out for me. All of those times I've goofed off with my own life; maybe fate is telling me that it's time for me to pay back my debt to society. Well, fuck society. The bitch hasn't done anything for me, but categorize me as a lesbian blond with a psychopathic tendency. That's what I am to her. I can agree with being a lesbian blond, though.

My phone rings, but I don't check the caller ID before ignoring it. I don't want to talk to anyone, not since this morning. Both Carly and Freddie _fail_ to notice my angered demeanor. They fail to notice that I can snap in any minute. Of course, because they want to help me. Well, they can't help me anymore.

The phone rings again, and I hit the ignore button. I turn my phone off, and drop it on the flat sofa. This isn't working. Why doesn't anyone realize that I don't want to be bothered?

The door busts open, revealing Wendy looking distressed.

"Do you _ever_ pick up your phone?" She scowls.

I narrow my eyes. "I'm not in the mood."

Wendy sighs. "Is this about Carly?"

I nod quickly. "She kissed me on Saturday, and then tells me that we have to stay friends. She broke my heart. Shit; it was stupid for me to think I had a chance with her."

"Hey hey hey," Wendy frowns, pulling me closer to her in an embrace. "Don't you _dare_ say that. You are a beautiful, talented, wonderful person. And she loves you. She's just confused about her sexuality, just like you were."

"_Were_?" I grit.

"Sam, you are _gay_. Do me a favor and _embrace_ it," she smacks me lightly on the head, with a tiny laugh.

I chuckle. "I hate you."

"Love you too," she shrugs, releasing me from her deathly embrace. "But on to the serious part, don't you think she said that because she panicked?"

"She did not panic," I point out. "Especially after frenching me in front of the street, in the rain."

Wendy smiles in awe. "In the rain? That is so romantic!"

"Shut up," I blush. "It wasn't romantic. We were freezing, and under an umbrella. The ony source of heat was snuggling our bodies together."

"That's still romantic," she coos, pinching my cheek annoyingly. "But maybe she kissed you because she was thankful. She liked the fact that you took her out. And, she loves you back and wants you to know that, so she smooches you, in the rain, in the middle of the street. But then, panic sets in, and she's like, _'holy shit, I just kissed my best friend for nine years!'_ So she comes up with an excuse to let you get mad, but she regrets it. So now she's feeling guilt, while you're feeling heartbreak, while thinking she doesn't reciprocate your feelings."

"It still hurts," I say, feeling the guilt and the tears coming back.

"Love hurts," Wendy says back. "I learned that the hard way."

Of course she did; her mom dies before she turns thirteen, and the string of boyfriends can really make a girl feel like shit, even though she has commitment issues. I, on the other hand, deal with it with the shitty boyfriends I've had in the past (excluding Benson; he was actually a decent boyfriend,) and with my best friend. Although that doesn't matter, it still hurts.

"Doesn't it?" I agree.

"Yes it does," Wendy nods. "But, I wasn't lying when I said she loves you, Sam. I've seen the way she stares at you, with so much care, love, and affection that goes _way_ beyond friendship. You just have to see it to believe it."

"I guess," I sigh. "Maybe I can talk to her, but when I'm ready."

"Which I hope is tomorrow," Wendy says. "Because a depressed Sam isn't a great sight to see, for any of us."

-x-

Another day, I think to myself as I walk in the building which is school. I'm feeling better after the conversation I had with a very sober Wendy. Even though she's not as close to me as Carly is, she has the same hardships I deal with, and while she self-medicates, I make sure that I still have my two best friends by my side. Even though one of them is my ex, and one of them I'm head over heels with.

"Sam," I hear a voice next to me.

I whip my head around, and Carly approaches me with a look of guilt and apology. I purse my lips and nod in her direction, but I don't make my way towards her. I walk all the way to my locker, and she follows me.

"_Please_ talk to me." It's a plead, not a cry. She's begging me to talk to her.i know I've screwed up with her feelings already.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask her, the first words I emit from my mouth since yesterday night.

She casts her head down. "I just want you to stop ignoring me so much. You're not making this easier for me."

"Making _what_ easier for you?" I ask. "You obviously don't love me back; so why should I talk to you right now?"

She raises her head up, and her look turns into an angry glare. I don't know what set her off, but I know I'm going to hear an earful.

The late bell rings before she has a chance to say anything, and I try to walk to my first class. She stops me with a hand on my wrist, and roughly pushes me against the lockers. She pins my arms over my head, and watches me closely. I widen my eyes in surprise; I never expect my best friend to be somewhat stronger than me. The way she manhandles me, makes me question if she's been hiding that for years. Then again, she did push me when I took her sandwich nine years ago.

The hallway is quiet, so I'm glad there isn't an audience for this display. I don't want anyone to know that the softest, girliest girl in school overpowers me in a single push. I open my mouth to say something, but she stops me.

She kisses me roughly, angrily, _rushingly_.

I widen my eyes, and the scene from Saturday plays in my mind. I'm thinking of the first time she kisses me; so soft, so loving, so calm. Now, it's rough, passionate, and with pure and utter rage.

I give in and start to kiss her back just as rough, and just as passionate, if not then more. I feel my grip loosening, so I move my hands and push her small body against the lockers. She moans slightly, from the cold reaching her back. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, and my hands find my way to her waist. The kiss turns less rough, but still passionate, as I feel her tongue entering my mouth. I gasp, and she enters me.

This is what I want... what I've been looking for. Although the school scene isn't so... great.

After thinking of that, I pull away slowly. We're panting, our chests against one another but still rising and falling from the harsh breathing. Her skin is flushed; as well as mine.

Then she kisses me again, slowly.

It's enough for me to go weak in the knees, but I keep my ground. I will not fall.

She pulls away, and touches my cheek.

"I'm sorry," she starts. "I just... Saturday was so sudden, and then you left abruptly for me to explain myself. Then yesterday, you were so mad at me, I couldn't explain anything. You ignored my calls, my texts, everything. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I want to tell you that what I said on Saturday, I didn't mean it. I was just so scared. I thought you didn't like me back, so I panicked. I love you, so much, and I couldn't believe that you felt the same way, so I kept panicking—"

I stop her suddenly, with another kiss. She loves me back. That's all I want to hear.

"I love you too," I whisper.

"Should we go to class?" She asks with a look that says otherwise. Although I don't mind spending the day out of school, I did miss half of my day yesterday, and not being here today would raise some eyebrows.

"Let's go to class, before we get in trouble," I answer, and we walk to our class, hand in hand. Although we stop holding hands after reaching English class, we're too happy to notice Ms. Briggs' snarl and some of the whispers from the classmates in class.

* * *

**Important AN: yes, it's earlier than usual. I have three explanations, actually. One, since this story is drawing to a close in a few chapters, I decide to update twice a week (but if you want me to go back to once a week, that's fine too.) Two, you guys deserve it. As to the man's fate, you will know what happens to him. But I think all of you have a basic idea of what's going to happen, which is another reason why I did this. Three, I already have a sequel in the works. And it's PWP, as well as more lighthearted than this whole story, but if you want some Carly/Sam action, then that's what you're gonna get! I also have a poll on my profile; if you really want to see that sequel, then vote vote vote! Please. Do it for the cam. And you can choose up to two. Majority wins. _do it, liek, naw._**


	19. Testify

**_Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly._**

* * *

"And were clear!"

The show ends, and we huddle around Benson's computer for some after-show statistics. We get over a million viewers, but not as much as the show two weeks ago. Although the disappointing number, we're still optimistic.

"I gotta go," Benson tells us. "Mom's being extra sensitive on me since I got sick."

"Is mommy Benson putting you on lockdown _again_?" I coo, which causes him to snarl at me.

"No," he retorts. "See you tomorrow."

"Whatever," I deadpan while he leaves the studio, leaving me alone with Carly. Besides the kisses we shared on Tuesday, she's been a little distant. I thought this is what we both want, but I'm wrong. Then again, she could still be a little insecure. I should try to talk to her.

I saunter over to her and wrap my arms around her waist, causing her to jump a little. "Hey cupcake," I whisper in her ear.

"_Sam_," she moans. "Not now."

I let go of her in defeat, with a sullen look on my face. "What's wrong? You haven't talked to me since Tuesday."

Carly shrugs, and bites her lips nervously. "I don't know."

"You _do_ know," I stress, and she turns around about-face to stare at me with a stern face. I raise an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to tell me?"

"I don't know, Sam," she repeats. "I _really_ don't know. I thought things would get better after this, but I still feel scared. Like, what is everyone going to think?"

"Benson's okay with it," I state, although he doesn't really know _every_thing about the two of us. We haven't done anything all week, so what is there to tell?

"But what about…what if the school doesn't take this lightly?" She exclaims. "More importantly, your mom? And Spencer?"

She's right. Everyone _did_ look surprised at my outburst at the beginning of the week. Although they already have an idea that I'm head over heels for my best friend, what would they think if I suddenly show up to school with Carly, hand in hand, romantically involved? Would they be as surprised and happy as they were when they found out about Freddie and me? Would they yell slurs at us; would they treat us worse than they did before, stop watching the show, and spam the iCarly forums with derogatory words despite the profanity filter?

How would my mom and Spencer act about this? Although I know that Spencer wouldn't really care, what would my mom say? What about the younger generation that watches the show? If their parents find out that the co-hosts for the web shows are two sixteen year old lesbians who are in a relationship with each other, they would definitely tell their kids to stop watching. Unless the parents are two moms or two dads.

"You're right," I sigh. "It's clear that none of us thought about the consequences about this issue. But if that's your main problem, why didn't you say anything before becoming distant? I missed you. I was worried."

"Well that's how I felt when you avoided _me_," she retorts.

"I know," I say apologetically. "And I'm very sorry." I reach for the both of her hands, and lace my fingers in between hers. "I just, I didn't know that you loved me as much as I love you."

"But we were still best friends," she argues.

"And I don't know what we are right now," I joke lightly. She smiles back, understanding the nature of the joke. Although it is a little serious. "We are beyond the friend zone, but us... I would like it if I paraded you to everyone, letting everyone know that Carly Shay is _mine_, and no one else's."

"And as much as I would like for everyone to know that Samantha Puckett is _mine_," she laughs. "We can't be public... yet. Until I feel ready."

I nod in complete understanding, and lean my forehead in hers.

-x-

"So, what's been going on with you and Carly?"

That's the first question Benson asks me after meeting at the Groovy Smoothie. Carly is spending the day with Spencer on a sculpture, which is better than the feathers and earwax one, but it's still weird. Coconuts and dog hair... I don't want to know.

"What d'you think?" I smirk at him suggestively.

"You two have been a little too cozy lately," he states. "I'm thinking the both of you finally got together?"

"Fine," I say. "We are—"

"Finally, I thought you two would never get together!" He cheers, causing people around the hangout to look at us suspiciously.

"Shut up," I whisper. "I mean, we are... kind of, but we're not public, yet. We're just waiting until we're ready, or at least, she's ready."

"Oh, okay," he nods.

"That means, don't tell anyone," I continue. "If you do, even tell a soul, I will show _everyone_ that video of you doing the Harlem Shake* in your room."

He gasps. "How did you—"

"Don't worry about that," I assure the angry-looking nerd in front of me. "Just don't tell anyone. Got it?"

"Got it," he says defeatingly.

A comfortable silence passes until we watch Carly enter the store, with a distraught and disturbed look on her face. She notices us and struts over, sitting on the available chair.

"What's wrong cupcake?" I ask.

"Spencer's sculpture," she replies. "Coconuts and dog hair. What the _hell_ is he going to do with coconuts and dog hair?"

"Chewbacca?" Freddie and I guess in unison. Upon saying that, we glare at each other.

"No, not at all," she shakes her head.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Bigfoot?"

"A portrait of Sam?" Freddie teases, which causes me to punch him on the arm, forcefully. Carly gives him a serious glare.

"Really? Can you two cut the animosity for one second!" She cries, which surprises the both of us and a couple of people around us.

"Calm down sweetie," I smile. "We're just playing."

"Well stop it," she frowns. "His sculptures are getting more weirder."

"He's an _artist_," I point out. Seriously, most artists make do with recyclable things, and unused things. Some people make art out of used gum. Spencer just goes to the junkyard to find his things and they're pretty good. Except for the fan of hammers. That was just downright dangerous. He almost killed his own sister, and me, if I was standing there.

She glares at me, simply because I don't agree with her. Is this what I have to deal with, being her girlfriend and all? "You're _supposed_ to agree with me."

"I do, to an extent," I say truthfully. "Come on, cupcake. You know I love you. But I'm used to your brother's weirdness by now."

"You guys are _already_ acting like a married couple," Benson snorts.

"Shut up," I mutter, getting a shy smile from Carly.

My phone starts to vibrate, and I check the caller ID. Mom's calling. Shit. I think this is bad. I excuse myself from the table and go to the bathroom, and click answer.

"Yeah mom," I answer.

"I have news for you," my mom says, with an euphoric tone.

I raise my eyebrows. "What is it, mom?"

"According to the lawyers and the police officers, I have enough evidence so he will be locked up forever," she answers. "Once, I get more people to testify against him. I only have myself—"

"I can testify against him," I interrupt her.

"Okay," she pauses. "But who else can I use to testify against him?"

I start to think for a while. Melanie would be a great candidate, but she hasn't really seen anything. Neither Freddie nor Carly know much. Only Spencer has really known about this... but I'm not sure if he can be enough for him to be locked up. He only knows about the severity of Friday nights, and he has a basic idea of how things go since that phone call.

"How about your friend?" She asks, breaking the silence.

"What friend _specifically_, mom?" I ask, confused.

"The tall, lanky one with the hair... you said he was a relative of Carly's," my mom explains.

"Spencer," I clarify. So she was thinking of Spencer as well...

"Yeah," she says. "He tried to call the house one day. He could be useful."

"I guess..." I ponder. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks Sam." I can feel her genuinely smiling through the phone. "I love you, see you later."

"Me too," I say softly, and hang up the phone. I haven't heard my mom say those three words in a long time, and actually mean it. It hits me harder than I thought it would, because as soon as I go back to the table, Carly starts to worry. "What's wrong? Why're you crying?"

I am? I touch my face, and feel the wetness on my cheek. I wipe my face instantly. "Nothing. Family issues."

"Wanna talk about it?" She says calmly, with a hand on my shoulder. It feels warm against my clothed shoulder; it's surprising how I can feel her hand through my favorite jacket. I look back at her, and nod once. I stare at Freddie, who puts his hands up in defeat, in a way to let us go and have some important alone time.

"Okay, come on," she says, getting up from the chair. She holds my hand innocently while I get up as well, and we leave the smoothie store, hand in hand.

-x-

"My mom's finally putting him back in jail," I start, while Carly hands me the plate full of bacon. She sits next to me on the couch in her room, and sips idly on her blue tea. "When I left school earlier in the week, I idly went to his house, and called the cops. They picked him up, and now she's confident he will stay behind bars but before that happens, she has to know who can testify against him. She's doing it, I am, and she has difficulty picking the next person because we want to show how horrible he really is."

Carly nods in understanding. "What about Spencer?"

Well, that's just _great_. "I don't know..."

"Come on, you basically told him everything, and he listened to your mom being attacked," she reasons.

"I don't know if it's sufficient," I tell her.

"I'm pretty sure Spencer can help you out. He went to law school, even for a couple of days." She's right... although my mom thought he could work, I don't know how Spencer himself, would feel about that. His sister's okay with it, and so am I.

"Alright, but we have to ask him first—"

"Ask who first?" I hear Spencer ask by the door. We don't know how long he stood there, but I'm pretty sure he was standing there for a few minutes. "What's going on?"

"Mom's finally getting her freedom," I answer quickly. "And... we were wondering—"

"If you can testify against him," Carly interrupts, noticing my hesitance on asking him if he wants to be involved. It's not an easy thing; asking someone to be a witness. But if he's willing to help me, then I guess that's okay.

There's a small silence before he says, "Uh…"

"Come on, you'll be helping Sam, and her mom," Carly tries to reason.

I sigh, "It's okay if he doesn't want to do it—"

"I want to do it—"

"Sam, he can help you - wait, did you just say you want to?" Carly cocks an eyebrow at her brother, and I do as well, wondering the same thing.

"Yes, I want to," he confirms, causing me to jump up from the sofas and run over to him and hug him close.

"Thank you so much!"

* * *

**AN: So I got a few reviews saying they were glad for the sudden fast update, so I might do that for now on. Four Chapters Left! Holy chiz on a chisel. I have nothing else but, thanks for the reviews, and VOTE on my poll. Like, it's more important than the KCA's (they could have picked a better host; I would rather have Dan Schneider host the KCA's, if I even watch it.)**

**This story's also on AO3, or Archive of our Own, just in case something happens to my account or if it gets deleted because of admins. I have the same username, however, remove the spaces and add the number 23 after.**

***considering I wrote this in Nov-Dec, everything is messed up now, but I don't want to keep Gangnam Style because it's less embarrassing to do the Gangnam Style in your room, unless you cannot do it at all. I personally hate that song and prefer the Harlem Shake, and since the Harlem Shake tends to have videos of suggestive moves, I decided to change it… does anyone know where I'm going with this? No? Okay.**


	20. Cold Turkey

**_Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly._**

* * *

_Two weeks later_

Today's my last day. I feel a little withdrawn that I can't do this, but it's for my own good, for now. I don't want to have questioning faces around me when I start smelling like the stuff.

I sit with the group, consisting of Wendy, Jonah, Pete, Jeremy, Tom, Wesley, and Missy. They know of my last day to do any of this stuff. No one outside of this group knows of my self-medication, and I'm not taking any chances. I take in one long drag before handing it to Wendy, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. It feels so good, and it would be so much better if I don't quit it cold turkey. It's legal, but I'm still not doing it.

"Are you sure?" Wendy asks me for the last time, with a disappointed, but proud look. She knows that Carly won't take my actions very lightly, but at the same time, she _barely_ speaks at me outside the house. Out of the whole group, I hope to god she still speaks to me even if I quit.

I nod surely. "Yeah, gotta quit the good stuff for a while."

"What happened? Carly busted you or something?" Jonah jokes, making everyone, even me, laugh. But that's just the drug making me laugh. Normally, I would've smacked him with my butter sock.

"No, but she is the reason _why_ I'm quitting. No chances with her." Everyone nods, but Missy shakes her head amusedly. Missy can never take a conversation seriously, but we're all high so her actions are… normal.

"What the fuck, Sam? She doesn't have you on a leash, does she?" She asks.

I snarl, "Shut up, Robinson. You're just jealous because your ex-best friend is getting some while you're staying in your house with thirty pounds of ice cream and your cats."

Everyone laughs ridiculously, except for her. She gives me a clumsy one finger salute as an insult.

"Don't get me wrong," I start. "I'll still talk to you loser junkies. Once you clean up your act. And dumb and dumber come out of the closet." I point to Pete and Jonah, who both narrow their eyes in anger.

"We're _not_ dating," Jonah cries.

"Oh come on, tell everyone the truth," Pete playfully pinches Jonah's cheek, receiving a slap on his hand. I roll my eyes in amusement.

"See? You two are cute together," I coo.

"Just because _you_ came out, doesn't mean _we_ have to lie for your satisfaction," Jonah sneers.

To annoy everyone for the hell of it, I say, "Technically I never came out."

Everyone groans. "Come on Sam, give up the act. Everyone at school, and we all know, that you're a carpet muncher. You swing in another direction. You bat for the other team. You—"

"Alright Thomas," I groan exasperatingly, growing tired of the lesbian puns flying out his mouth. "We get it. You don't need to come up with any more puns."

"_Well_!" Tom gasps dramatically.

"So, when are you guys _really_ coming out?" Wendy asks.

I shrug, "Carly isn't ready for that, yet. She'll give me the okay eventually. But for now, we just have to act like friends in front of the school—"

"And behind closed doors, she's screaming your name!" Wesley laughs.

"Not exactly," I stop him. Although I want that to happen very soon…

"You two haven't done _anything_ yet?" Jeremy asks.

I shake my head no. "I just told you idiots she's not ready. How in the hell am I going to do anything if she's not ready?"

"Not even second base?" Wesley interrogates.

"Nope," I answer quickly. "Just plain ol' first base. Sucks, doesn't it? But we've been together for two weeks. I don't move that fast."

"You did with Freddison," Missy points out.

"Not even, _Robinson_," I smirk. "It took us four weeks to go past second base. He was scared that he might knock me up, even with a condom."

"Better safe than sorry," Jeremy points out.

I nod. "Well, normally, I would want to keep chatting, but I'm getting hungry. And thirsty."

"So am I," Wendy says, and gets up to get the snacks and drinks. Although I'm craving ice cream, Twinkies sound good, I think as she lays out the Hostess snacks in front of us. "Eat wisely, they took these out of the market," Wendy warns, talking about the Twinkies. I take one, and start to eat the sponge cake. Although I will miss them, I'm kind of glad they're removing them… too much cream in the middle. I down the juice boxes like I don't have anything to eat at home, while my mom went food shopping for the first time in years just yesterday. Cotton mouth sucks, and they're wondering why I'm quitting this habit.

"Calm down Blondie," Jeremy laughs. "There's enough to go around."

"My mouth is dry," I mutter, and continue to down my fifth juice box. I feel my phone vibrating, and I pick it up from my pocket and press answer without checking the screen.

"Yes?" I say calmly, while everyone stops bustling around in the background.

"Sammie?" I hear my twin sister question on the intercom. I flinch at the stupid nickname she gives me; I've always hated it when _anyone_ calls me that. Anyone, _even_ Carly, or Freddie. "How come you don't call me no more?"

"What's up annoying, ten-minute-older sister?" I ask, giving everyone the satisfaction to continue with a wave. "I've been busy with mom, and stuff."

"Sure," Melanie drags out sarcastically. "What's up with you and Carly? Huh? Has she finally give in to the Puckett charm?"

"Shut up," I blush uncontrollably. "And yeah, we're kind of a thing..."

I hear some cheering and unintelligible yelling in the background. "Don't tell me you have me on speaker so your little friends can listen to our conversation!"

"No, none of that," she answers way too innocently for my taste.

"Melanie Ann Puckett," I warn. "You better not—"

"I _swear_ I'm not!" She cries defensively. I hear some shuffling in the background, and some whispering, although I can't hear the words.

"What're you doing?" I interrogate.

"My roommate asked me who I was talking to," Melanie explains. "I told her I was talking to my twin sister, who's the cohost for iCarly. She says hi. She's a big fan."

"Oh," I deadpan. Normally, fans would make me feel great about myself, but most of Melanie's friends are preppy little bitches who will have a Paris Hilton complex later in life. "Well, I'm here with some of your stupid friends you smoke with."

"They're your friends too," she retorts.

"_Wendy_ is my friend. Jeremy grew to be my friend. Wesley is _your_ friend. Missy is just here because we supply her with free weed. Jonah and Pete are _gay_ for each other, and _no_ one likes Tom." Although I personally hate two people in the group, I have to make humor of the situation.

"Hey!" Everyone cries in unison, while Melanie laughs.

"You see?" I sigh exasperatingly. My high is starting to dissipate, although I'm a little glad, since my mom's being a mom again. I don't need any more chances.

"Whatever," she replies,

"Anyway, this is my last day," I tell her. "I can't be using this stuff and god forbid, I get caught."

"It's _legalized_," Melanie states.

"Not by the cops, idiot. By my best friends," I clarify.

I hear some silence, and then a loud snort. "Carly is still your best friend? Is that what you kids call it these days?"

"Shut _up_," I growl.

"She's your _girlfriend_," Melanie says matter of factly, like I don't know that already. "You should be calling her by that. She is _yours_, Sam. No one else's."

I start to blush, thinking of the day when I told Carly she's mine. "I think the whole autonomy between us has been established."

"You two need to come out," she laughs.

"In due time," I reply. "Anyway I got to go. Everyone's glaring at me."

"Call me more often!" She exclaims quickly.

We hang up on each other, and Jonah, Pete, Missy, and Tom are glaring at me. "What? I hate you two," I point at Jonah and Pete. "The only reason why you're here is for free stuff," I point at Missy. "And I have no idea why you're still here," I point at Tom.

Wendy snorts. "She loves all of you."

"Stop lying to them," I state coldly. "I still haven't fully forgiven Missy for her stunts to drive me away from Carly."

"That was _two_ years ago," Missy cries. "Get over it."

I shrug. "I suppose, but I still don't trust you."

"I didn't ask for trust," Missy snarls.

"What about us two?" Pete asks, pointing to himself and Jonah.

"I told you," I say exasperatingly. "Come out, and we'll talk."

They both growl under their breaths, while everyone else laughs. Even though we're under the influence, I can still get a laugh out of everyone here. Even if they're joking on me. That depends, though. There are certain things we don't play at, like abuse. "Don't get mad, get glaaaaad."

They give me one finger salutes, and I give one back to them. "You guys are so susceptible to my jokes. God. I still remember the day we found them stark naked in here, covered in their own fluids."

The laughter gets harder, while Jonah and Pete still appear angry. Missy has a confused look on her face, but still laughing. She doesn't know much of the matter, but if she did, she would _die_.

"They looked so scared the minute they woke up!" Wendy points out, grinning at the frowning men at the room. "I still have a picture of them cuddling before Sam woke them up."

"Oh god," I double over, the pressure in my laughter making my sides hurt. "They should have seen the looks on their faces!"

"The most funny part is when they were standing up," Tom says.

It actually is. "Jonah couldn't get up due to the suspicious pain from his lower back."

"Ha ha ha," Jonah mocks. "_Very_ funny."

"That's what you get for being an _asshole_," I stop laughing and deadpan him, with a bored expression. "Oh come on, stop denying your feelings. You're making this harder on yourself. First step is admitting it, come on."

"For the last time, I'm not gay!" Jonah yells in anger.

I throw my hands in anger. "It's all shits and giggles until Jonah takes it up the ass," I quote.

Everyone starts to laugh again, getting the double standard in the joke. "We're just playing, no hard feelings, eh?"

Jonah rolls his eyes. "Fuck off."

"_Well_!" I mock gasp. His anger has no effect on me, since we're exes and I truly dislike him, but since he wants to take everything seriously, I guess I can just stop talking to him altogether. That's the only way we talk to each other: bickering like an old married couple, or like how Freddie and I used to act. Although I don't mean half of the things I say, he just takes it personally all the time. I do that to the people I dislike, especially to Missy. And she doesn't care at all.

"I think I'm done joking with the sensitive little faggot over there,' I sigh, glaring at Jonah's angry face.

"You two fight more than how you and Freddie used to fight years ago," Wendy states.

"Yeah, that's because Freddie used to be as sensitive as a girl's clitoris. This one is just as sensitive," I joke.

I hear a couple of snickers, only because the boy aforementioned looks like he's about to burst. "I'm bored. Anyway, it's late, gotta go."

"it is?" Jeremy asks, with a raised eyebrow. I nod, and shows him the time. "Oh."

"See you around!" Wendy says, giving me a half hug. I hug back and get up from the flat sofa, and excuse myself to the door. "See you losers in school… well, _most_ of you." I smirk at Jeremy, the obvious dropout, and leave the room in silence.

* * *

**AN: another lighthearted chapter... I think most of the angst is done and over with. now it's just love and happiness everywhere. And three chapters left! Hope you guys are still voting because March has started and I'm writing these chapters! Hah, just kidding, I have a paper overdue, weekly assignments overdue, and a shitload of other work to make up. College ain't easy. Good thing I finished this story before posting it up.**


	21. Coming Out

**_Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly._**

* * *

"I'm ready," Carly tells me after we stand in front of her apartment door after walking home from school. What? She's ready? For what? Is it what I think it is, because it's too early in our relationship to be doing so. But if she wants to do it, then why stop her? Just let it be known that…

"Sam," she raises an eyebrow.

"What was that, sweetie?" I ask.

"I want to tell Spencer, about us," she explains slowly, with a smirk on her face.

"Oh," I say stupidly. "I thought you meant something else when you said you were 'ready'."

Carly opens the door to her apartment. "And what would _that_ be?"

I freeze a little upon seeing the suggestive, seductive, sly smirk on her face. I blink in pure innocence. "I don't know…telling him that you and Benson would never work?"

"I'm pretty sure Spencer knows I'm not going to date him…_again_," she laughs. "Seriously. I've waited too long, and I think he deserves to know first."

"Know what first?" Spencer appears with a bucket in his hands, causing us both to jump in mid-air.

"What the hell?" I groan. "Stop scaring us like that!"

"No," he answers in a childish manner. "It's fun, and I like it."

"Well, get serious, Shay," I frown. "We have something to tell you."

"Please don't tell me you changed her grades again," Spencer groans.

I narrow my eyes. Does he really think that I would tell him, if I ever changed my girlfriend's grades, again? Would that be smart?

"Seriously," Carly whines. "Just hear us out."

"Okay," he raises an eyebrow, putting on his serious face.

"This isn't easy for any of us," Carly starts. "But we just want you to know that we don't care if you like it or not. Sam and I love each other, _very_ much, and I'm pretty sure that we don't plan on changing that. We've been together for two and a half weeks, and we were scared on how you would react to this. But I think I can deal with that for now. I love her a lot, Spencer," she grabs my hand tightly, with tears falling from her eyes. "I care about Sam, and she does too. And you two are practically brother and sister. I would hate that you two would start hating each other because Sam's my girlfriend, and—"

She breaks down completely in my arms. I hold her close to me, letting her sob on my shoulder, like she let me a month ago when I told her about my mom. I rub her back soothingly, attempting for her to calm down.

Spencer walks over and hugs us both. "I love you two, no matter what."

I hug him back, restraining the tears from falling. I always know that he would be calm about it despite his childlike attitude. He's the big brother I would never have, even if he acts younger than us.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll _never_ hate you for that. You're my sister, and if I want anyone taking care of my sister, I'm kind of happy it's Sam."

He lets go of us, and gives us a sad smile. I wipe the tears from Carly's face and look at her eyes. They're full of happiness, and relief. I'm more than happy to see the look on her face brighten upon hearing acceptance from her brother. That's all we wanted; acceptance…even from an obvious source.

"We should go upstairs to get rehearsal done," Carly says between sniffles.

Spencer nods. "Okay, thanks for telling me this. I really appreciate it." The way he says it brings tears to my eyes, but I blink them away.

"Hey Sam, can I talk to you for a bit?" I hear Spencer ask me. Carly raises an eyebrow, but I give her a reassuring look. She nods, and kisses me on the cheek before walking up the stairs. I stay put, but when Spencer pats the seat next to him, I almost-hesitantly plop myself on the couch.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interrogate you," he clarifies. I breathe a sigh of relief upon hearing that, since it would be weird if he did. He knows me way too long to know that I wouldn't hurt Carly…intentionally.

"I just want you to know that I'll always be there for you," he says. "And the door is always open whenever you want to talk, or if your mom isn't exactly happy about… this."

"Thank you," I say truthfully. "I'll remember that. And I promise not to hurt Carly."

"I know you won't hurt her," he replies. "It's not in your nature to hurt her. She's strong, especially when it comes to you. You're like another sister to me…although that would be weird because you're dating my sister—"

"I think I get it," I laugh. "I gotta go set up for rehearsal."

"I'll be down here…forever alone, with my sculptures," he jokes. I roll my eyes with a grin, and run up the stairs, getting ready for rehearsal.

-x-

"Mom?" I call out after getting home from rehearsal. I'm tired, and I'm pretty sure she'll be home right now. If not, then hopefully she's setting up the court date. I hope it's the latter.

My mom walks down the stairs, still wearing her pajamas, and her hair, a bit disheveled from being in bed all day. Well, she needs the rest as well.

"Did you enjoy your all day nap?" I grin at her. She sticks out her tongue and rolls her eyes in a childish manner. Sometimes, she's another Spencer, which almost scares me.

"I'm guessing that's a yes," I sigh amusedly.

"Of course I did," she says. "I haven't slept like that in so long."

"Yeah, because you have to deal with that _son of a bitch_ plaguing your dreams," I grunt.

My mom ignores my comment, and looks in the refrigerator for something to eat. "How was your day?"

I shrug. "Like every day."

I refer my mind back to earlier before the rehearsal, where Carly came out to her brother, and how he accepted the both of us. He never suspected it, but that doesn't mean he hates us at all. I'm still happy that he's willing to be there for his sister, and even for me, if god forbid, my mom isn't very accepting of this revelation. But I doubt my mom would do such a thing; after the things I've done for her these past few weeks. She would think I'm the gay twin, which would be stupid for her to think so, but if she doesn't care, the why stop her from thinking about it?

"What's wrong?" My mom asks me, pulling me out of my reverie.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What?"

"You're quiet," my mom points out. "What were you thinking about?"

I shake my head. "Nothing important."

"Not important for you to be _this_ silent?" She queries, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Just…would you hate me if - if I was…um," I stammer awkwardly, ignoring the lump in my throat. It's harder for me to say it than it was for Carly. She said it so calmly, so softly, so understanding. I'm stuttering like a little kid; even worse than one, actually.

"Sam," My mother grabs my chin, and gently forces me to look at her eyes. "Just tell me what's wrong. You're scaring me."

I remove her hand from my chin, but I keep looking at her in the eyes. She looks concerned; not exactly a first, but I haven't seen it in a long time. She also has a hint of curiosity, noticing my quiet demeanor. Normally I'm not this quiet, which is why she's questioning it.

"I wanted to know if you would hate me for…not being like the other girls out there," I whisper, mentally scolding myself for beating around the bush.

"What do you mean?" My mom questions in confusion. "You mean like…not parading your prepubescent body, like the sluts _they_ are? Why would I hate you for that? Thank god you aren't like those girls!"

I refrain myself from laughing at that statement. She always finds a way to lighten the mood. "I mean…those girls who don't like boys. Those girls who are in love with their best friends."

"Oh…" My mom nods, finally understanding the situation. "So…you like girls, and one of them is your best friend…Carly, right?"

I nod, not surprised that she caught on quicker than I expected.

"Why would I hate you for that? You've done _way_ more disappointing things," she shrugs. "I expected this to happen…I mean, ever since you two met each other, she's been that girl who, mostly, kept you out of trouble. I always thought, ever since I met her personally, that you two would be a perfect match. If not, then that Freddie fellow…but that failed."

"So you're not mad, or surprised?" I ask.

She gives me her infamous 'no shit, Sherlock' look. "Obviously. I would rather you be a lesbian than a slut. But anyway, I'm happy for you."

I smile at her, and hug her tightly. She hugs back, with the same warmth I've missed from her. "And anyway, I always knew you would be the gay twin."

"Shut up mom," I laugh. I know she would say that, lightening the mood again. But, I would prefer nothing else, anyway. She rubs the top of my head with her fist, and I playfully push her away. "Mom, I'm not a little kid."

"So what?" She taunts. "You're my little kid."

I give her a playful stern look, in which she ignores. "So, what do you want for dinner? Unless you ate already. Ham? Bacon? Tacos? Cupcakes?" She says the last item with a suggestive grin.

"_Mooooom_," I groan. She knows I call Carly 'cupcake' ever since I met her, and she still hasn't forgotten about it. I just didn't know she would taunt me about it, especially now.

"Tacos it is."

I grin widely. "Spaghetti tacos?" I suggest. She couldn't make it like Spencer, but for some reason, I'm feeling domestic.

"Since I ran out of taco meat, why not?" She shrugs, pulling out the noodles from the pantry. "But don't suggest something like that ever again. You know I'm not like Spencer."

Even though she's nothing like him, they can be very similar. And while that scares me, I'm happy that my mom's getting better, even though it will take years for her to get better on her own.

* * *

**AN: If you haven't noticed, this chapter is a little too short, and probably too lighthearted to be listed as angst. I'm losing the angst pretty quickly (which is surprising considering that this is the most angst-filled fics I've ever written.) anyway, two chapters left! And please keep voting in the polls if you haven't already. If you have, then don't think of voting again. It won't let you. (;**


	22. Justice Prevailing

_**Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.**_

* * *

Today's the hearing, and while I have the stories to defend myself, I have a gut feeling that it's not enough for him to go to jail and rot there. The last time my gut feeling told me something, it was right. But I still got the girl days after the public humiliation, so I'm not sure where I stand. I have to miss school again, and I'm pretty thrilled. School is boring and pointless, and the only kick I get out of going to school is giving wedgies and seeing Carly during classes and between classes, even though there isn't any PDA, since we're still in the closet when it comes to anyone in school.

My mom sits next to me, as well as Spencer. We're both nervous, or at least I am, because my mom looks scared and Spencer looks indifferent. Carly's also here, because she wants to show support. Freddie went to school because I force him to.

I sigh, and feel my mother shaking all of a sudden. I furrow my eyebrows, but then I look ahead and watch as her ex-boyfriend sit on the opposite side of the room. He glares at me and my mom, and I give him a sarcastic smile before rolling my eyes. It's not mature, but I don't really care. I really hate this man and I hope after today, I can see him finally go to jail.

The judge comes in and we finally start.

After a few boring opening statements and stuff, the only thing that interests me is when they call him over to the stand. I finally wake up from an almost-deep slumber and watch him go up and swear not to lie, but that's bullshit. He's a sociopath, they _all_ lie.

"So, you were romantically involved with my client, is that the truth?" My mom's lawyer interrogates. Like it's not obvious that they were dating during this. God, some people are stupid.

"Yes," he answers, looking over to my mom with a cold sneer.

The lawyer pauses. "Okay. My client claims that the first time you hit her was the first week that you were together. She received a small laceration on her lip. Is that true?"

The man looks taken aback, and shakes his head no. "Of course not."

Lie number _one_.

"So you _never_ hit her, during the first week of your relationship?"

The man snarls falsely. "I _never_ laid a hand on her. Where are you getting these crazy ideas?"

Lie number _two_.

"So explain the bruises she has," the lawyer retrieves a picture of my mom's recent beating wounds and hands it to the judge, 'in this photo."

"Seems legit," the judge says, handing the lawyer back the photo.

The man hesitates. "Those can easily be exaggerated with makeup."

Lie number _three_.

"Why would I make up those?" My mom yells.

The judge raps his gavel onto the table. "Order in the court!"

Everyone stays silent. My mom's red and shaking in anger, and it will not be long before she blows up and attacks the man.

"So you're saying that my client can easily create the bruises with makeup," the lawyer queries, but I know he has something up his sleeve. We hired a great lawyer, even though Spencer could easily bring us to justice as well. The lawyer turns to the audience and the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, we all know that bruises can easily be created. But what he doesn't know is that I'm one step ahead of him. You can't cover up cuts, can you? Well, my client has loads of them, all over her body. And she _surely_ doesn't get them from her daughter—"

"Objection your honor," the other lawyer, the one representing this futile excuse of a man on the stand, stands up and interrupts. "You can also makeup cuts easily with makeup. And how do you know it wasn't her daughter?"

"Why would it be her?" Our lawyer asks.

The other lawyer smirks."I call Samantha Puckett to the stand."

I roll my eyes, and get up from my seat. "Here goes nothing," I whisper, and apply myself to the stand. I swear, and all that good junk, and await as the man's lawyer starts to interrogate me.

"So Sam, is it?" I nod quickly. "You have a web show, am I right?"

"Yes, I do," I answer. "What does this have to do with—"

"Have you ever committed a _crime_, Sam?" The lawyer rudely asks me.

I scowl. "Yeah, I have, and I've been to a juvenile hall because of some of them."

"Really, so you know how it feels to be in a jail?" He asks me.

"Not exactly, I've only been to juvie because of petty crimes…and the occasional riot…and I dumped a chili dog down a foreigner's pants," I explain with regret, "But that's beside the point. I would never, _ever_, intentionally touch my mother in a violent, or in an inappropriate way. She's not the best mom in the whole world. Sometimes she was neglectful, and she showed favoritism towards my twin sister over me for being smarter than me, but if I told you that she's not trying her darndest to be a better mom, then I would be lying. She hasn't committed any crimes after that time in therapy, and she makes sure that she loves me, although she doesn't show it all the time. I would never repay her with domestic abuse. Plus, she's stronger than me so why would I try to hit her? She isn't as _frail_ as she looks."

The lawyer purses his lips, with a defeating look. "My client sported a black eye last week. Care to explain?"

"An act of self-defense," I explain. "He wanted to deem me his punching bag for the night, so I attack back. I'm not exactly a person that takes the beating, you know. Especially from my criminal record."

Some of the people from the jury snicker. "Yes, but that doesn't mean you attack someone like that."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? So you're saying, that I have to sit there, and let this coward, smack me around like he did to my mother?"

"Which reminds me, if you knew that your mother was attacked, why didn't you call the police the first time?"

Shit. That's the question I am deathly afraid of. Reason is, that I felt that my mom would be taken away instead of him. But that would be stupid.

"Look, I made a mistake of not contacting the police. I also confided in a friend who didn't tell the police because I told him not to. That was also a mistake. But trust me; I did not, repeat not, want this to happen to my mother. It was going on for weeks before I decided to intervene, but we're a match. We can do lethal damage if we wanted to. And that's what I was afraid of, him attacking my mother to death. Plus I didn't know where he was."

"Even if you don't know where he was, why didn't you contact them when he was at the house?"

Oh, damn. This lawyer makes another point I can't really answer. "Sometimes I wasn't at home to do it. I'm usually at my friend's house to get away from it all."

"Why would you want to get away from it all?" The lawyer asks. "You know what was happening, why would you escape it and let your mother get beaten while you're doing a childish web show with your friends!"

"Objection," my mom's lawyer interjects.

"You don't know anything!" I yell back, letting the unstaged, real tears fall. "I felt that if I called the police, he would break out and kill us both. And if not, he would threaten to kill the ones we love. I can't... I can't live if he did that to anyone I care about, especially if he did that to my mother!"

I hastily wipe the tears from my face, and swallow away the lump in my throat. I don't want to cry, not in front of everyone who might think I'm faking. I'm not, at all. But after years of being a staged comedienne, people would easily find your weaknesses.

"No further questions," the man's lawyer announces, and I step off immediately. My mom gives me a reassuring look. I sigh and slink back into my chair, feeling defeated.

-x-

Two and a half hours later, they finally call in Spencer. I fear the worst because I don't make much of a point, and the two hours are wasted on arguing and statements. I yawn silently to myself, and my mom taps me to wake me up.

"How long have you known Sam?" My mom's lawyer asks.

"I've known her since she was seven," he explains. "She came over when my little sister Carly invited her over after being friends for a few days."

"I see," he walks around the room, mindlessly, thinking of other questions to ask. "How would you view Sam's relationship with your little sister?"

"They've been best friends for over nine years," Spencer answers. "They even have a web show together."

"So, when did you suspect my client was getting attacked?" He asks.

Spencer gulps nervously. "Sam came over and confided in me during the first week of their relationship. When I tried to call the house to check on Sam's mom, she picked up, but before telling me that things are fine, I heard her being punched. I assumed it was him," the tall male glares at the attacker. "Since then, we never mentioned it, only when she would come over to escape from it all."

A long silence passes while suddenly, the other lawyer stands up and imposes, "Excuse me, I have a question for this one here. Your honor?"

The judge shrugs with very little care in the world.

"You say that Sam and your little sister are best friends, right?" He asks.

Spencer nods. "For over nine years, sir."

"Yes…" He walks around, glaring at our lawyer with spite. "Have you ever suspected anything more than _friendship_ between the two?"

"Of course not," Spencer lies, showing no expression on his face. I smirk; I taught him well about lying.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

Spencer nods. The lawyer purses his lips, then turns back to Spencer. "I ask this because my daughter goes to your little sister's school, and is also a fan of said 'iCarly'. And my daughter has seen something brewing between the two girls—"

"Objection," our lawyer interjects. "This has _nothing_ to do with this case, none at all."

"Excuse me, but I want you to know that this man sitting there," he points at Spencer, "is lying!"

"I assure you, there's nothing going on between them other than a close friendship!" Spencer exclaims.

"Order!" The judge slams his gavel on the table. I thought he would never smack that thing. "Anything that doesn't pertain to the case will be _ignored_."

My mom and me breathe a sigh of relief.

-x-

Another few hours pass by and I'm completely drained. As the jury decides in their little room, I decide to snack on some ham my mother packs in for me. I would have ate it in the courtroom, but that would be disrespectful. But the fact that people can hear my stomach growling has to be both embarrassing, and funny at the same time.

"I want this day to be over!" I groan, while I sit on the steps with Carly by my side. "I swear, I thought they would never shut up in there!"

"Why did they ask about us?" She asks.

I shrug. "I don't know, I don't care. Like our relationship would determine if the whole case is a lie. Come on, what do they take us for?"

"I don't know, but I hope you guys get justice," Carly smiles and wraps her arm around my arm. We can't be seen with each other, but I simply can't take it anymore. Neither can she. Although we don't do PDA, we haven't given each other anything other than hugs since yesterday. I sigh, and look around me, seeing if the coast is clear.

"Coast is clear," Carly smirks.

I smirk back, and we lean in slowly, but we're interrupted by two sounds of throat clearing. "You didn't think you would do this outside the court house, did you?"

We groan in unison, and glare at Spencer and my mother, who have playful grins on their faces. "I was hoping for some peace and quiet," I say.

"Well I'm sure the outside isn't exactly peace and quiet," my mom lamely points out.

"This sucks," Carly mutters.

We get up from the floor, and dust our suits from any invisible dust. "We should go back inside. I'm pretty sure they're done deliberating," I sigh.

We walk back inside, and sit down in our respective seats. I feel so alone since Carly isn't sitting next to me. I wish we were out, instead of finding quiet and secluded areas just to make out for a few minutes. Maybe we should talk about this later in the day about this. "We've reached a verdict."

My mom suddenly grabs my hand in reflex. She squeezes it hard enough for me to yelp a little. "Sorry," she mutters, and relaxes her grip.

"We find the defendant..."

* * *

**Edit 3/14: here's a revised version of the chapter. I'm very sorry for pulling a dick move like that. I was just so tired and I didn't want to be off schedule. But since most of you will not reread this chapter, this will be ignored. Although I advise you to reread it to refresh your memory. Have a good pi day. (:**


	23. Be Ready

Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

* * *

Finally, I'm home. Well, not really home. We (as in myself, Carly, and Spencer) go back to the Shay apartment and I'm tired from sitting at the courthouse all day. It's been a stressful day and hopefully I can spend it somewhere worthwhile, and my mother gives me the okay to spend it with my girlfriend.

After a few seconds of me settling in the apartment, I run towards the fridge and check for food. "Where's the ham?"

"You ate it all on our date, remember?" Carly giggles.

I nod. "Oh, yeah. Well that sucks. I have nothing to snack on."

"Not _exactly_," she says, giving me a suggestive smirk.

I frown. "Seriously, I'm hungry. I need _real_ food."

"I know," she shrugs, with a point towards the freezer door. "There's some frozen pizza in the freezer. They've missed you since the last heat wave."

I laugh to myself, remembering the disgusting Seattle heat wave; I stick my head in the freezer and ate all the frozen pizzas since they were already getting warm inside a freezer. It isn't that bad, unless you're eating them straight out of the freezer. That will hurt.

"Cereal it is," I smile, and retrieve the box of cereal from the top of the refrigerator.

"Dude. Seriously?" Carly frowns, and snatches the box of cereal from me.

"Mama needs to eat _something_!" I whine. "And don't say that part of your body. We haven't even pass first base yet."

"I know, but you know I like to tease you," she rubs the side of my face. "I'll text Freddie to bring us some smoothies on his way home from school. I'm beat. Why did it take so long to finally lock that guy up?" She pulls out her phone, and texts a small message.

"The jury, and the lawyer are jerks," I argue.

"I know, remember when he accused you for the battering of your own mother?" Carly argues back. "What kind of _asshole_ does that to their own mother?"

"Woah, watch the language cupcake," I joke. She knows I don't mean it, but since she doesn't cuss a lot, it's still a surprise to hear her let out some obscenities once in a while. She glares at me halfheartedly.

"I'm not a little kid," she pouts.

"I know you're not a little kid, but you're my little kid," I coo, and cup her face, finally kissing her for the first time in the day. I feel her hands place themselves on my hips, the feather touch sending small electric shocks to my body. It's still surprising how she's my girlfriend, and she still has that much of an effect on me.

"I enter, and I see my best friends making out," I hear Benson announce like it's a big thing. We pull away from each other and I roll my eyes.

"Thanks a lot, Benson," I grit, and snatch the smoothies away from his hands.

"You're welcome," he sneers. I hand Carly her smoothie, and give him a one finger salute before sipping on my smoothie.

"Thanks for the respect," he says sarcastically.

"I love you too," I mutter halfheartedly. "How was school without us?"

"Boring," he says, and plops himself on the couch. "Nothing interesting happened. How was the hearing?"

"He's locked up _forever_ baby," I cheer, while doing a little dance.

"That's better than my whole day," he sighs. "Seriously, why send me to school?"

"You don't know half of the story, dude," I deadpan.

"So?" Benson whines.

I share a glance with Carly before looking at the pathetic male before us. Sometimes I find it hard to talk to Benson on his pathetic days, besides mocking him. But I'm too happy to mock anyone now.

"So, uh," I give him a stern look, and he nods in realization.

"Okay, I see," he says pathetically, sniffling falsely. "I'm not wanted here. My best friends who happen to be _dating_ each other want some more alone time."

"We'll be in school tomorrow," Carly waves at him.

Benson sniffles again. "You guys know how to make a guy feel unwanted."

I snort involuntarily, and he leaves the apartment entirely. I share another glance at Carly, and we laugh simultaneously.

-x-

It's late in the night, and I decide to spend the night again at Carly. Mother doesn't mind, since she knows how much I want to spend time with her for now. I also want to talk to Carly about something. It's been bugging me since Spencer and my mom interrupt us in the midst of our lips almost touching in front of the courthouse. I mean, PDA isn't really my forté (I only did it because of Benson) but I actually want to take things more seriously. We've been together for almost a month, and even though it's too fast to be doing this, I think it's slow enough. We've known each other for too long for anything to be considered 'too fast'.

"Carly," I say, pulling away from her after a very cool make out (cool as in our clothes are still on.)

She raises an eyebrow in disappointment. "What is it that you have to say that's more important than our make out time?"

"We need to talk," I sigh.

"What is it?" She questions, and sits back on the bed.

I sigh, thinking of a better way to tell her. I don't want her to feel rushed here, but I'm getting a little tired of sneaking around. Maybe she feels the same way and she's just waiting on me to say it. Well in that case…

I cast my head down, to prevent looking at her. "I'm getting tired of us sneaking around. I feel that we would be happier if we don't have to do that, so I'm ready to tell everyone about us. I know it's all of a sudden but we've been dating for almost a month, and, I understand if you're not ready because I can wait, but—"

"Sam," she sighs, and raises my head up with a finger to my chin. "You know what comes with that."

"I know, but I'm willing to take a risk," I counter. "It's not because I want to be bombarded with hate, I just want us to feel like we could be a couple outside of the friend circle. There's some people who are our friends, and they have no idea what's going on between us."

"I understand that, but why _now_?" She enforces. "I feel like it's not necessary to do it now. I mean, yes a few people know, but who else _really_ needs to know?"

She doesn't understand where I'm coming from…I feel our first argument coming on. "They don't need to know, yes, but I _want_ them to know. I want everyone to know that I love you."

"I told you this already," she growls. "No one is ready for that type of revelation. I told you this weeks before we got together. What would everyone think? You didn't respond, but the look on your face pretty much said it all: we cannot come out. At least, not yet."

"That was three weeks ago!" I blurt out. "Are you kidding me? I can't believe you're saying this. I don't give a fuck about people's opinions in that stupid school. What difference would it make if we did? We're still Carly and Sam, and I'm pretty sure it's high school; while some of us are immature, I'll agree with that, we still have a small number of people in the school who are just like us, and are _terrified_ of coming out. You're so busy thinking about the negatives that you can't think of the positives of coming out."

"Really, Sam," she scowls. "Are you really going to talk about _that_? I don't care about that either. However, I think it's best if we don't do it now. The negatives outweigh the positives on this one, that's what you're not thinking about."

"I'm not thinking about that? Of course I thought about it!" I snap, refraining myself from raising my voice. "I know how it is. I used to be the school bully, for crying out loud. I used to be the one giving the wedgies, pulling pranks, torturing and terrorizing everyone around me. That was my thing. I _barely_ do any of that stuff anymore. If anything, they'd be _dead_ by now if they _ever_ laid a finger on you!"

I pause and take a deep breath. Although I still feel an angry tension around us, I just need to calm down before I destroy something. "You know what, why did I say anything if I knew you were just going to be this avoidant?" I get off the bed, and start to collect my things from the couch.

"Sam, wait—"

"No!" I snap. "You completely missed the point I was trying to make. I'm basically saying that coming out will not make a dent in our reputation... unless people _really_ hate us. You're so worried about how we would look towards our fans, that you completely ignored how we would look to those who actually look up to us. If we—"

She stops me by hugging me tightly, and a sob escaping her throat. I hug her back just as tight, and feeling her warm tears upon my bare shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just want... I want the same thing. But I can't risk _anything_ bad happening to us."

"It's okay," I whisper, and rub my hands up and down her clothed back. "It's fine." I sigh and whisper sweet reassurings in her ear, in an attempt to calm her down and to soothe the sobs. We basically crossed a touchy subject for the both of us, and while I'm a little distraught, it hurts for her more than it does for me. I just want the best for us, so that we could feel happier.

"Tell you what, we'll wait," I say.

I feel her head shaking against my shoulder. "No."

"What? Are you sure?" I ask, making sure what she says is actually true, and is going to happen.

She lets go of me, and nods with a wet, subtle smile. I wipe her face from all of the tears. I never like to see her cry, especially after a petty disagreement we just had. But now she wants this as much as I do, but how do I know she said that because she wants to do it for me only? I want her to be comfortable as well.

"Don't do this for me," I whisper.

"I'm doing this for the both of us," she whispers back. "I love you, and I want everyone to know that, okay?"

I nod, and lace my fingers between her fingers. She steps closer to me, with our chests touching slightly; I feel her shallow breathing against me, tickling my face. I slowly close the gap between us, and she immediately kisses back.

-x-

This is it, I guess I'm ready. I take a deep breath and glance at Carly next to me, who looks just as nervous. We agree to stop hiding our relationship, since it would actually make us happier. Despite the problem we had yesterday, we're trying this slow and I guess this is a new step we should take.

"You ready?" I ask.

Carly nods quickly, and intertwines her fingers in between the spaces of my fingers. She grasps my hand, and I squeeze back, a silent reassurance that there's no going back, and that we have to go through with this. It's now or never.

We give each other a quick smile, and enter the busy school, hand in hand, with no care in the world from anyone who objects. Although some people can say whatever about us, we don't exactly care.

However, it's no different; a couple of stares and no one noticed any difference. So far, so good.

"Did I miss something?" The stupid nub Benson grins at the both of us.

I frown playfully, and let go of my girlfriend's hand to open my locker. "Not that it matters to _you_, but we decided, why not?"

"I'm proud of you guys," he gives us a proud look, resembling a father being proud of his son throwing a football or something. "You finally got past your fears. Who knew that you two would suddenly date each other, with the constant whining from the both of you—"

"Shut up," I deadpan, while he stops immediately, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Whatever, I have class anyway." I ignore him walking away from us, while I retrieve my books from my locker. After closing it, I feel Carly's hand interlacing with mine.

"I love you," she whispers in my ear.

The breath tickles my ear, and I almost snort, since it's a sensitive spot. "I love you too, cupcake." I turn around, and kiss her suddenly, which causes her to squeal.

I block the coos and whistles from other students, focusing on the girl I love in front of me. I know it can't get any better than this, because this is the best moment in my life. I wouldn't have it any other way either.

* * *

**AN: And it's over. Yay, aren't you happy? No? Okay. I want to thank each and every person who read, favorited, alerted, and reviewed this story. I thought it would be a bad idea to post it, but thanks guys. You all proved me wrong. Anyway, the sequel to this story is in the works, and spoiler alert: the poll on my profile is showing me that you will see a sequel! after the 26th, though. No chances before that.**

**I cannot tell you much about the sequel, but spoiler alert: some good things happen. Also, this story, much like my other stories on this account, is located on my AO3. Same format, same storyline, same everything. Just no ANs. If you want to check me out over there, my name is bluewiggedthespian23. If you need a link, PM me. I cannot post links here or on my profile since I'm limited to an iPad for the time being.**

**Thank you all for reading. And happy pi day! I send you all virtual pies of your favorite flavor.**

**Edit 05/22/2013: Sequel is up, it's called Unrelease (I know, suckish title.) Go check it out! :)**


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